Dark Grounds
by ForeverDarkly
Summary: Part 3 of the Dark Queen Series:When a small community college is pleagued with a string of violent and gruesome deaths Sam, Tate and Dean decided to look into it. But is this case really something they should look into or just looking for trouble?
1. The Emergency Phone

**Hey! Welcome back to another "riveting" installment of "Dark". I know I left everyone in a lurch at the end of Dark Roads, but I promise, all will be revealed in time. Anyways, I hope you guys like this and as always, Miss King will appear in the second chapter. So...umh, how does 'Happy Reading", sound? lol. **

**Chapter 1- The Emergency Phone**

The street lamps hummed as they all began to turn on, the large bulbs warming up and slowly each lamp flickered on; deep gold light dotting the side walks. The lights were spread twenty feet apart and the sphere shaped ring of light only fanned out ten feet; one glow never touching its neighbor. The sidewalk that the lights illuminated curved, crisscrossed and linked together, all the concrete lines eventually forming an oval shape. The cement walk way branched out at some places, reaching out for buildings filled with classrooms and offices, but all came back to the imperfect circle. In the center of the oval was the Alumni Greens, a sprawling lawn that was in the center of the SUNY Orange campus. The campus was empty; it was a Friday night, no students dared to take a night class, a handful of teachers still haunted their offices, finishing off last minute paper work and pay roll papers and then the night cleaning and security crews. The parking lot looked deserted, save for a few straggling cars owned by the teachers and "night crew" filled the spaces.

A blood curdling scream pierced the silence, sending birds flying from their late night perches in the trees over head, and the sound of feet slapping against the paved walk way followed the shriek. Breaking through the circles of light, almost looking like the person was hopping from one glow to the next came a young woman in her early thirties, clutching her side. Blood seeped through her fingers and breath escaped her in forced panting gasps. The habitual walking of the campus had gone out the window and the young woman, obviously a professor, fell face first as she ran down the small hill of the Alumni Green. Her legs had gotten tangled and she had tripped over herself. She hit the ground hard; cutting up her palms, scraping her knees and forcing more blood out of the wound on her side. She lay there for a moment, regaining her head and getting her breathing back under control. The sound of heavy footsteps filled her ears along with the hurried beating of her own heart. Pushing herself up, she scrambled down the rest of the walk way, a small of blood left behind her, and ran for the emergency phone that stood only a few feet away from her. Blood soaked fingers reached out, each finger trembling, and quickly dialing the access code to bypass the school's emergency menu. A moment later the phone became a land line and she dialed 911.

"911, please state your emergency." The dispatcher's calm voice came over the other line.

"I've been stabbed." The young woman shuddered, her free hand clutching her side once again; her own blood causing the cuts on her palm to sting.

"I'll send an ambulance; first tell me what your name is."

"Andrea Oliver, I'm a professor here at SUNY Orange."

"All right Andrea, what happened? I need you to remain calm."

"Something came out of the shadows and attacked me in my office. It's following me." She stammered, her eyes flicking across the grounds, looking for her attacker.

"Just stay calm Andrea, the police and EMTs are on their way. Stay calm."

xXxXx

Police flash lights lit the area surrounding the emergency phone, quickly followed by the EMTs who were struggling to do their job by the light of dying MagLight bulbs. Two officers roped the area off with police tape as their fellow officers investigated the scene. Andrea Oliver's body had fallen in front of the emergency phone, the slash on her side gone purple, almost looking like a bruise and had been bled dry and then a jagged smile like slit line her throat, her body had bled out on the grass under her.

"So, she called 911 at a little after eight and we got here at eight thirty. How far do you think her killer could've gotten?" Lieutenant Peter Wyles asked his lower ranked and younger officers as he provided light for a young EMT with a shaggy mop of brown hair and too long limbs. "Are ya done yet son?"

"Yes sir." He said, standing up to an impressive height and walked past the older cop. Wyles watched the young man head back toward the ambulance that had driven up onto the campus. Shaking his head, he turned back to his officers and was about to start asking if they had seen anything before he himself had gotten there when a New York State Trooper's squad car pulled up along side the ambulance. Wyles watched the door snap open and saw an older man step out. The tall EMT, who had be joined by another one a few inches shorter than him, rolled his eyes as the Trooper walked over to the scene.

"Can I help you sir?" Wyles asked, his men backing away a little, pretending to look busy and not like they were eavesdropping.

"Yes you can, I'm Officer Benjamin Kail with the State Police. I heard the dispatch on my way home from work and decided to swing by, so what do we have?" He asked, pushing his graying light brown hair out of his eyes.

"A murder; but other than that we have nothing. We have no weapon, foot or finger prints and no signs of the killer anywhere." Wyles answered, swiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

"What did the young woman say when she called 911?"

"Something came out of the shadows and attacked her in her office."

"Have you searched her office yet?"

"No not yet. I suppose you can go poke around if you want."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Up on the third floor in Morrison Hall…I don't remember what room number but her name is on the door."

"And her name…?"

"Andrea Oliver."

"Thank you Officer…?"

"Lieutenant Wyles."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Wyles for your time." Kail said, smiling curtly and then walking off the lawns, heading up toward Morrison Hall. As he walked up to his car, grabbing his gun off the dash, he looked over at the two young EMTs and nodded. The young men nodded back and quickly followed him. The younger men fell into step behind the office and fought to catch up to his longer strides.

"Exactly how long does it take to get here? We've been waiting almost an hour for you to show up. It's freezing."

"Do you know what I had to do to get that car? I left the damn trooper tied up in a store closet in the barracks."

"But seriously, how long does it take to get here? This isn't a big town."

"Dean, shut up. Ben, where are we going?"

"Did you see the mansion when you pulled in? Third floor Sam." The three walked in silence, well save Dean's further complaints about the cold New York night time air, and quickly made it toward Morrison Hall. The building was one of the oldest on the campus, huge and looming over them, the true definition of a mansion. The home had been turned into office spaces when the College Board needed more room for more professors. The door opened easily and they walked inside, going up the small flight and heading toward the grand stair case.

"Damn, Tate would kill to take pictures in here." Dean whispered, taking in everything from the huge stained glass window, the Fresco painting in the ceiling of the music room and the jade chandelier that hung in the dining room.

"Dean, later you can send her your ideas for a magazine spread in Homes and Gardens, we have work to do." Ben hissed down from the second flight of stairs; Sam was already on his way to the third floor. When they got up there, they took to her office, searching through it for everything and anything.

"The EMF isn't picking anything up." Sam said, pacing the room for a second time.

"Do you think we missed something?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Where did Ben go?" The two looked for him and found the doors to a small balcony opened. Walking out there, they found the "trooper" jamming in the numbers on his cell phone.

"Who are you trying to call?"

"Tatum." Dean took the phone from him and gazed at the number he had stored.

"That's her old number. I'll call her." Dean said, dialing familiar numbers.


	2. Unspeakable

So, this is chapter two and as always, Tate's here. If you guys remember, I wrote a very big cliffhanger at the end of Dark Roads; in this chapter, I fixed everything and its all back to normal. So I'll leave you all with that and hope you guys like this chapter.

Chapter 2-Unspeakable 

Tatum King woke up to the sound of her alarm clock blaring and the words to 'Sympathy for the Devil' swirling around in her sleep fogged mind. With a huff, her hand snaked out from under the thick covers to shut the annoying electric shriek off. The noise ended with a slam of her hand. She was exhausted; she had only been down at Fancy's till closing, which was only a few hours before. Pushing herself off the mattress, her reached over for her glasses on the night stand and everything around her slowly came into sleep filled focus. Running a hand through her hair, she looked over to her dresser and found her cell phone blinking at her. Groaning, she got out of bed and grabbed it; a new voice mail.

Calling her voice mail, she entered her password; the four digits that made up her birthday, and sighed when she got sent to the automated main menu. Punching in the right numbers, she sighed louder when the computerized voice came on.

"You have one new voice mail, received at 8:55 pm." The voice droned in her ear and she tried to figure out exactly where she was at five minutes to nine. It all came back to her with a snap; she had been pouring drinks and singing along with Fancy and Mick Jagger. Laughing a little, she heard the message start to play and pushed the image of the night before deeper into the back of her head.

"Tate, baby it's me. Look, I'm in New York with your dad and Sam. Your dad's looking for you; he thinks you should look into this case. He wants you to come down here and help out or something. I dunno. Give me a call back when you get this. I love you."

Tate was shaking; the last time she had seen Dean was about three weeks ago when he left for wherever John had sent him and then later that night in her nightmare, she watched him die. She had called him the moment she had come out it, when the screaming stopped and her tears had finally stopped dripping down onto the blanket, and left him a message just saying to call her; he never did.

She grabbed her cell phone, dialed Dean's number and walked into her office, booting up the computer. A minute later the ringing stopped and she heard a familiar huff of air come over the line.

"Hello?" Dean's sleep filled voice followed after it and a smile tugged on Tate's lips.

"Morning Sunshine."

"Tate? Tate, it's too early."

"I know baby, but I just got your voicemail."

"I didn't expect you to call me back now, hell I expected you to call around midnight."

"Sorry, I was tending bar with Fancy."

"Why? I thought you went back to the paper."

"I was there for about a day and a half and then I quit."

"What happened?" She could hear him stretching off the bed while he asked her and she swore she heard the familiar pop of his shoulder.

"I came in later, Alex screamed, I told him to fuck off. Apparently, I'm not supposed to talk to him like that and he said if I yelled or was late again he'd fire me. So I told him to go fuck himself and that I fucking quit. I've been tending bar for two weeks."

"Tatum..."

"Don't Dean. I'm fine."

"But I thought you needed that job?"

"No, I need money to pay for my place."

"Tate..."

"So, where exactly are you in New York?"

An hour later Tate stood at the end of her bed, fully dressed in jeans, her favorite Aerosmith t-shirt and her boots, folding clothes and stuffing them into her blue duffle bag. Thanks to Sam, who Dean had passed the phone to when she asked where they were, she had Mapquested how far Middletown, New York was from Boston and where exactly SUNY Orange was. She had a four hour drive ahead of her and if she was lucky, she'd make it there by lunch time. She had dropped the duffle to the floor and was repacking her camera bag when she heard the now familiar sound of Nero and Alana literally popping into her living room.

"Ya know, if I wasn't one of you guys, I'd come out there with a gun." She said loud enough for the two older Wyckers to hear.

"You'll get used to our arrivals."

"Yeah, your unexpected and horribly timed arrivals." She said as Alana walked in and sat on her bed.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yeah, my dad needs me in New York." She watched Alana's vivid teal colored eyes follow her hands as she gently dropped her 35 mm camera into its place in the bag. "So, do you two want anything special?"

"Yes, we need to talk." Nero said, walking into the room and leaning against the dresser.

"Well, make it quick. I need to get going."

"We've found something, something that shouldn't be." Alana stated, her fingers knitting themselves together.

"Like a disturbance in the Force?" Tate smirked, hating the fact that when Garrett had been alive, he had been obsessed with Star Wars and she could still quote the three movies backwards and forwards thanks to all the nights he spent watching the tapes in random hotels.

"A what?"

"It's a pop culture reference Alana my dear. And yes Tatum, that's what we're talking about."

"So what is it Nero and why do you always have to come to me?"

"Remember Olivia, the oldest and most powerful, the one we first told you about?"

"Yeah."

"She was kind of our 'queen', if you want to put it that way."

"Please, tell me you're not grooming me to be her. I'm not good with all that kind of responsibility." Tate whined, hefting her bags onto her shoulders.

"We are, Tatum you are the most powerful Wycker and we're here to tell you something."

"All right, tell me."

"Something evil has resurfaced and it's already taken too many lives. I think it might've killed the young woman in the case your father and the Winchesters are working on." Alana said, reaching out to grasp Tate's hand.

"Wait, you think it killed this chick at this college?" Tate had remembered the college from her nightmare and the thing that 'killed' Dean. "Did it look like a man and is able to vanish into the shadows?"

"Yes. Why, have you seen it?" Nero asked, looking far too concerned for Tate's liking.

"I saw it in a dream...nightmare."

"Tell us."

"Whatever he, it, was it killed Dean. Shot him five times in the chest and then when I got there he said killing him was a 'warning for the Wycker'. Is that what you're talking about?"

"It sounds like him doesn't it Nero?"

"Very much so."

"So wait, Shadow-Man is what? A spirit? Pissed off ghost? Demon?"

"No, he's an Unspeakable One."

"Alana, you have to give me more than that."

"An Unspeakable One is someone, in this case your 'Shadow-Man', who was once a Wycker but turned evil. He's pure evil and the last one left, there were two others, but we destroyed them. He slipped away."

"So what do we do? Exorcise him?"

"No, it's complicated; I can not tell you right now. You need to go warn your father and keep both eyes on Dean, at all times. We do not need your vision to play out."

"It was just a nightmare Nero."

"You're a Wycker now Tatum, dreams and nightmares hold more importance than before." Tate nearly growled at him and then looked at her clock.

"I've got to go."

"All right, go. We'll find you when we can tell you more." And just as fast as they came, Nero and Alana poofed out of sight.

"I swear; I'll never get used to that." She muttered as she turned everything off and locked the place up on her way out; ready to tackle the four hour drive ahead of her.Rolling her eyes as she walked toward the elevator, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Dean's number again.

"Tate?"

"Dean, I'll be there in a few hours. I'll call you when I get closer and find some places to meet you."

"All right. No driving like a mad-woman."

"Pot calling the kettle black."

"Shut up. Be careful, huh?"

"I'll try. Love you."

"Love you too."

"Bye."

"See ya later." She flipped her phone shut as the elevator doors opened.


	3. Calling Shot Gun

**I know that the past two and now this chapter have been kind of "slow" but I promise everything will start to pick up soon. I'm just trying to get everything where I need it to be before I let chaos break loose. I got asked in a review if there would be more Fancy/Sam together and here she is. I'll give you guys a little spoiler, in the next chapter Tate's dad Ben is gonna be in it and then after I get the Ben-stuff out of the way, everything should start to move faster. **

**Oh! And when I mention SUNY Orange, Middletown and anything that is in Middletown, like in this chapter the hotel they're staying at, everything is real. I actually go to SUNY Orange, I'm always in Middletown and I drive past the hotel, John's Harvest Inn, everyday. What I'm trying to say is that I own nothing mentioned here and I'm kind of "borrowing" what's around me for this story. With that said, I'll shut up and let you guys get onto the chapter. **

**

* * *

****Chapter 3-Calling Shot-Gun**

The Mustang rolled up along side Fancy's and as soon as the keys were turned to the right, Tate was out of the car and pulled the door's key into her hands. Walking inside, she kicked on all the lights and pulled open the door to Fancy's stairs. Walking up into the small apartment, which was really nothing more than the renovated attic of the small deli that the bar had previously been. Fancy had put a lot of work into it, she had a sprawling living room with two leather couches, her computer, several bookshelves and sets of shelves mounted on the walls, her small kitchen, the small guest bedroom and matching bathroom, her master bedroom and bathroom with the huge walk in closets and a small balcony that used to over look a small garden, but Fancy had gotten rid of it and had her brother build a small garage back there for her motorcycle and her restored El Camino. Muscle cars were one of things Fancy and Tate had found out they had in common right away; right after Fancy backed the El Camino into the Mustang in one of the parking lots outside of the New England Institute of Art. Walking into the living room, Tate found Fancy passed out on her small couch.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Tate cooed, walking over to the leatehr chair and shook Fancy's shoulders. Tate tried not to laugh as she looked at her best friend who still wore her leather pants from the night before and the Zeppelin shirt she normally slept in.

"Go away." Fancy mumbled, burying her face into the couch cushions.

"I'm leaving."

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"No, leaving like to go with Sam and Dean leaving."

"Tell them I said hi."

"Tell them yourself. Get dressed. You're coming with me."

"Like hell I am. I'm not getting up for at least eight more hours."

"Only to open the bar and do it all over again?"

"Damn straight. Leave me alone Kingy, I'll fire you."

"Liar."

"Let me sleep!" She groaned as she pulled the small throw pillow out from under her head and tossed it at Tate, who caught it and threw it back.

"C'mon, Sam will be there and when I talked to him last, he said he missed you." It was a lie, Tate hadn't talked to either of them until that morning, but if it got Fancy out of bed, it was worth it. Fancy looked up at her and cracked an eye lid, her eye brow arched.

"Are you just trying to get me up?"

"No, he's with his brother. I talked to him a little while ago."

"Give me ten minutes."

"I'll make coffee."

"Smart girl." Tate watched her disappear into her bedroom and then walked into the kitchen, her combat boots clunking against the hardwood floor. She made coffee and poked around in Fancy's living room, dropping down a few seconds later and looked through the newest issue of 'Rolling Stone'. Twenty minutes later Fancy walked back out, low slung baggy jeans dripping off her hips, a red mid drift long sleeved shirt, her own scuffed up boots and was throwing a beanie over her hair which she had pulled into a little messy ponytail. Behind her, she was dragging her duffle bag; half of her clothes were falling out.

"Sam better be there Tatum."

"He is, Francesca." Tate laughed as Fancy bristled at her full name.

"Ya know I hate when you call me that."

"Like I enjoy being called Tatum Elizabeth. Are you ready to go?"

"Gimmie a minute. And if I have to come with you, I call shot gun. I will not drive that red..._thing_ you call a car." Fancy said, filling up a thermos full of the coffee Tate had just made. The two had a long going 'fued' over which car was better, the El Camino or the Mustang; it was something stupid and childish but it was a 'Tate&Fancy' thing.

"Like I'd ever let you drive my car." Tate threw over her shoulder as she walked down the stairs. Ten minutes later, the two were in the car, both of their bags tossed in the trunk and Fancy was already playing with the radio; switching it from the local rock station to one of the five CDs in Tate's CD player.

"Pick a damn CD."

"I can't decide between Queen or the Stones."

"How about you just let them both play? We have a four hour drive ahead of us."

"Yes ma'am. Christ." She muttered; falling back against the leather seat and buckling in before Tate could give her another dirty look. Once off the strip where Fancy's bar was, Tate rolled down the windows and was almost tempted to put the top down, but changed her mind and just let the wind whip through and across from the doors. They were pulling onto the high way just as 'Killer Queen' came on and Tate looked at her best friend.

"So, have you talked to Sam since he left?"

"Nope, not since that night after the park and your fireworks display." Tate rolled her eyes and tapped in time with the song so she wouldn't fall back into the memory of the night at Weston Park.

"If I were you, I'd make a move on him soon."

"Oh yeah? Why do you say that?"

"Dean drags him to bars with him like his wing man and last time I checked, Sam was rather 'attractive'. God only knows what he could be doing later." Tate said with a smirk.

"Ya know if I was you I wouldn't worry so much about Sam, I'd be worrying about Dean." Fancy said with a smirk one of her own, one that Tate thought could almost beat out Dean's.

"Explain."

"C'mon Kingy, I know you're not as blind as you seem to be. Look at him. He's gorgeous. Those eyes, that body, those arms and those lips! Christ, the lips. I'd be worried about him."

"He knows better."

"He's a guy and you're not always around." Fancy said as she watched Tate get tense, so tense that rain started to ping against the windshield.

"Enough Fancy. He's not going to do that to me again."

"Again?"

"Well it didn't really count; it was after I moved away."

"But he has done it."

"Enough!" She shouted; the sky growing dark.

"Sorry Tate. I was just messing around."

"Yeah sure, whatever." She said, cranking up the stereo so loud that the glass in the rear view mirror was shaking. The rest of the ride was silent, with the exception of the screaming stereo. Fancy had fallen asleep against the vibrating window and Tate was having a fight with the thoughts swirling around in her head. Everything Fancy had said had finally gotten to her and she was this close to snapping.

Around twelve thirty, a little earlier than Tate had planned on showing up, the Mustang rumbled into the parking lot outside of John's Harvest Inn and outside of Room 16 the engine died, going from the low guttural growl to a dying purr. Resting her head on the steering wheel, she let out a tired sigh and then snapped her head up at the sound of Dean's voice that was quickly followed by a high pitched girlish giggle. Her purple eyes caught him standing by a young woman dressed in a hotel's staff uniform. The girl looked a little younger than herself with bouncy bottle blonde hair and a too giggly attitude. Fancy's words from earlier began to clinch at her and with a snap, she jumped from the Mustang, the sound and shock of the door slamming waking Fancy up, and crossed the small amount of parking lot between her and Dean.

Dean knew Tate was there before she even showed up or the Mustang rumbled in, the sky had grown too dark too quick; she was angry. Hearing the familiar sounds of her boots smacking against the ground, he looked up and saw her. Tate jumped up onto the sidewalk and pushed the blonde away from Dean.

"Hey!" She squealed, looking up at Tate. But when her purple eyes clashed with the clear blue ones, she saw the blonde shrink back and get scared.

"What! You have something to say?"

"No!"

"Good! Get lost bimbo. Dean, can we talk?" She nearly growled as Fancy got out of the car and Sam walked out of the room. "Inside, alone, please?"

"Sure Tate. Sorry about that." Dean said as Tate walked into the small hotel room. Dean followed her in a minute later, his eyes darting back and forth, watching her pace the length of the room.

"All right, what's wrong?" He asked, catching her by the elbow and pulling her close.

"Nothing, it's just something Fancy and I were bullshitting about in the car. Sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"What were you bullshitting about?"

"You and Sam."

"Gossiping?" He asked with that smirk and arching an eye brow.

"No, bullshitting. There's a difference."

"What were you talking about?"

"Girl stuff really."

"Whatever."

"So what were you talking to that bimbo about?" Tate asking, changing the subject with an arching of her own eye brow.

"Getting you an extra pillow for the bed." He said as Sam and Fancy walked into the room.

"Kingy have a melt down on the wanna-be Malibu Barbie?" Fancy cooed.

"Leave it alone Fance. Its your fault."

"How is it…never mind. Sam, wanna help me get my bag out of the car and leave this two crazy kids alone?" She asked, smiling at Sam.

"Yeah, I'll help." Once the two were gone, Dean pulled Tate close and kissed her cheek.

"Why did you bring her?"

"She's a distraction."

"For?"

"Sammy and his crappy timing."

"Oh. I get it." He told her, trying to catch her lips again.

"Wait, why did my dad ask me to come here?"

"He figured you know something about whatever killed that woman."

"I do." She said simply, her finger tips skimming over his cheek bones.


	4. A Few too Many Questions

**Quick note, nothing long this time just a reminder. Ben, who's in this chapter and probably will show up a lot more in other chapters, is Tate's dad. I got an email asking who he was and decided to post this just in case there's anymore confusion. Other than that, I hope you guys like this chapter.

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****Chapter 4-A Few too Many Questions**

Sam and Fancy stood behind the Mustang, the trunk's lid upright and Sam pulled out Tate's duffle bag, along with her camera bag; gently cradling the smaller bag against his chest. Fancy stood next to him, her bag over her shoulder and kept drinking from her thermos. A blast of warm air caused them both to look up at the sky; not a cloud, black, gray or white, hung there. The sky was an almost too perfect shade of blue and it was 'just right' warm out; Tate's mood had improved.

"She's not pissed off anymore, any ideas why?" Fancy asked, rolling her long sleeves up to her elbows.

"Dean." Sam said simply as he pulled up the trunk's false floor, revealing a 'weapon storage' much like the one in the Impala. The warm air touched Fancy's cheek as she looked down into the storage area and the feel of the wind reminded her of a caress.

"I'm learning about this whole weather thing, she hasn't been this happy in a couple weeks."

"Again, Dean. She's always happy around him, even if she pissed off at him. Its something weird between them, they have to be near each other to be in an approachable, won't rip your head off mood. I've been trying to figure it out since I was ten."

"And yet, they always fight."

"Because they're identical." He said, pulling out the rock salt filled magazine from Tate's camera bag and stuffing it back into a small net bag on the side of the trunk, back with a handful of others.

"They are not identical Sam."

"Yes they are. You've never seen them fight. Its horrible, they yell so loud it sounds like the walls are coming down."

"Everything they do it sounds like the walls are coming down."

"Yeah, don't remind me." Sam said with a shudder and cringed at Fancy's grin. "But I'm telling you, they're horrible. He yells, she yells twice as loud, he curses, she curses him out, and he goes to hit her, she actually hits him. One time she broke his nose. He threw a coffee cup at her once and missed by about ten feet, but Tate being Tate went and got this hand carved crystal decanter that Ben had full of Holy Water, the damn thing must've weighted five pounds when it was full, and lobbed it at him. It missed, but not by much, shattered and some of the shards caught him in the leg. I'm telling you, its bad. If you're ever _lucky _enough to be around when they fight, leave."

"They can not be that bad." Fancy said, looking at him like he had three heads.

"They are, you didn't see what happened the night she left. It was a fucking war."

"And yet, they're crazy about each other."

"Always have been." He said, leaning against the now closed trunk.

"Does he love her; I mean really, truly, honestly, deeply and all that shit, love her?"

"Are you blind? He's been crazy about her since he was fourteen, he'd do anything for her. Hell, he's even killed for her, but don't say anything about that they don't talk about it."

"What happened?"

"A hunt went wrong, don't worry. But he does, he loves her. The freak just won't admit it. Both of them won't, only when they have to. And when they fight, its like fighting themselves they're so damn identical. If you piss them off enough, they say the same things at the same time, its funny sometimes."

"Must've been fun growing up with them."

"I wouldn't say fun, but it was something. Do you think we should go in there and see if they're alive?"

"Yeah, knock first?"

"We've left them alone for fifteen minutes, I would. I've learned to knock." Fancy laughed as she went toward the door, her fist raised and knocked loud enough for people two rooms down to hear.

Inside the room, Tate's head snapped up at the sound of banging on the door and pushed Dean off of her, literally keeping him at an arms length.

"If that is my father, you're dead. I mean it."

"Its probably Sammy."

"I swear to God Dean. Go see who it is."

"If its Sam, he has a room key."

"No he doesn't, both sets of keys are on the table jackass."

"Fine, Christ. I'll get the door." He said, pushing off the bed and fixing his clothes, mumbling something Tate pretended not to hear as she pulled her shirt back to wear it belonged and fished out the necklace she wore around her neck. Pulling the charm into her hand, a tear drop shaped prism, she felt the power pulsing through it, just like the lightning that had flown through her only a few weeks before and quickly before the words Alana had said to her when she looped it around her neck came back, she dropped it back under her shirt. She could feel the stone beating in sync with her heart and took a deep breath, calming both down to a slow and steady thud.

"You have such shitty timing Sam. Fance, I thought you were gonna keep him busy?" Dean's voice brought Tate back from toying with the necklace and winked at Fancy in the doorway as a wicked grin formed on her lips.

"I was going to, but we decided it would be better to mess around on the hood of the Impala instead of the 'Stang. We don't need a freak hurricane hitting upstate New York." Fancy said, laughing when Tate smirked at her.

"Can you guys hurry up and finish fixing your clothes? We have to meet Ben in twenty minutes." Sam said, stepping into the room and rolling his eyes when he looked at Tate.

"Why are we meeting my father?" She asked, jumping off the bed and pulling on her jacket, making sure her keys were right where she left them.

"He knows someone at the college, a friend of the woman who was murdered. We told him we'd meet him there today and then give you a call to see if you were coming down, but you're already here." Sam told her as he tugged on his own hoodie and tossed Dean his leather jacket.

"C'mon Fance, we're taking my car." Tate said, brushing past her and outside into the parking lot.

"Why can't we ride with the boys?" Fancy asked, catching up to her.

"Because if my father pisses me off, I can just hop in my car and drive away. Without it, I'm screwed and have to stay with him." She said as Sam and Dean walked to the Impala. "You guys go ahead, I'll follow." She called and then mirrored Dean, ducking into the car.

The Mustang trailed behind the Impala and fifteen minutes later Tate pulled into a parking space outside of the Colonial Diner. It was a small diner right down the street from SUNY Orange. It was cheap, conveniently located and had good food, from what the guys told her walking in. Walking inside the diner, Tate took in everything around her; the old couples eating soup, men dressed in business suits and talking on their cell phones, women chatting with their girlfriends, students most likely gossiping with their text books sitting in front of them for decoration and then in the back corner of the diner, in the biggest booth, sat a man that was all too familiar to her.

"Let me go talk to him first. You guys wait here." She said as she pushed past Dean and wedged in between a waitress and a booth. It took her four long powerful strides, but she felt she was going backwards, to get over to her father. She didn't say anything at first, just let her presence work her way into him. When he looked up, dark brown eyes clashing with an electric violet pair; Ben gasped.

"Tatum."

"Dad." The last time Tate had been in the same room as her father was the weekend he spent with her when she graduated from college; that was four years before. He hadn't changed much, his hair was graying around his ears but the rest of it was still a warm chestnut brown, the lines on his face were etched a little deeper and he looked tired to her, but other than that, he was still her dad. He was still Benjamin Michael King; first class hunter, third class father, world class drunk and twenty six time holder of the coveted Pain-in-Tate's-Ass Award.

Tate was jerked from her thoughts by the rough tug from her father and quickly, her face met his shoulder. He held her tight for a few minutes and just as Tate squeezed him back, he let go. Well, he didn't let go entirely, he pushed her back far enough in his arms and got a good look at her.

"You look baby girl."

"So do you dad."

"Look at those eyes; still as beautiful as I remembered."

"Oh, you do remember what I look like? I mean, you haven't seen me in four years."

"Tatum Elizabeth…."

"Yeah I know, 'I'm your father, don't talk to me that way'. I remember the speech dad." Ben tried to be angry with her, but couldn't and placed a kiss on his daughter's cheek.

"So, did you come alone or…"

"Sam and Dean are here, so is my friend Fancy and before you say another word, she knows."

"Well, bring them back here."

"They're standing up by the register. You can wave them back." She said, prying herself out of his arms and went to hang her jacket up on the hooks hanging on the side of the booth when she noticed someone starring at her out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head just enough, she looked over and found a woman sitting there. She looked about ten years older than Tate with shoulder length black hair and hidden behind a pair of simple black wire frame glasses were a set of bright green eyes that seemed to pierce right into her.

"And you are?" Tate asked, her hand on her hip.

"I'm…" Before the woman could finish, Sam, Dean and Fancy showed up and each took a seat around the booth, Dean pulling Tate with him when he sat down. The way the four sat lined Tate up perfectly with the strange woman and with a wicked grin, she knitted her fingers together and looked at her father.

"Who's the bitch?" And there was one of the many things Tate learned from her father, the trait of being too blunt.

"Tatum…"

"No Ben, its fine." The woman cooed, patting Ben's hand.

"Kathryn…"

"No really Benji, its fine." Kathryn said, looking at Tate.

"_Benji_? Benji, what the hell is that? Mom was the only one that ever dared to call you that! Who the hell is she dad?"

"Tatum, don't make a scene."

"Too late, I already am."

"Dean, can you do something about this?" Ben pleaded, looking across the table at him.

"I don't think I can Ben, she deserves to know. Hell, we all do." Dean said, falling back against the chair.

"I'm his fiancée." Kathryn said, with a grin that bothered Tate a little too much.

"You son of a…." It took all Dean had to keep her sitting, to keep her from launching across the table at the woman cuddled up next to her father, but he did it and pressed his fingers into her hip.

"Calm down. Miss, can I get a glass of water." Dean asked, calling over a waitress.

"Fine I'll calm down if she leaves." Tate said, challenging the woman. Ben looked floored.

"Ben, if you don't want her to blow this place up, make her leave." Sam said, looking from Ben and then to Fancy, hoping she'd understand the look in his eyes talk to Tate. But just as she went to, Tate pulled away and crawled over Dean, a second later standing near the table again.

"Make her leave dad, I don't care if she knew the woman who was killed, make her go. Now!" She said, as thunder quaked outside.

"All right, Tatum, baby girl calm down."

"Don't call me that! Make her leave!"

"Kathryn, you should go. We'll talk more later." As soon as Ben stood, the woman got up and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before giving Tate a cold look. Tate felt a growl build up in her throat and Dean watched with wide eyes as her hair began to stand on end, just like that time in Weston Park. Reaching out quickly, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap; static shocks biting at him palms and jumping off her arms.

"Baby, baby calm down." He mumbled against her temple, smoothing out her hair. Ben sat back down and Dean shifted her over, putting her back between him and Fancy.

"Tatum, what the hell was that? Making a scene like that!"

"What the hell is wrong with you! You and that bitch, dad!" Tate rasped, her voice roughen from almost electrocuting Kathryn.

"I love her."

"No! What about mom?"

"You're mother is dead Tatum, we've been over this plenty of times!" Sam and Dean looked between the two and Fancy, without knowing, spoke up.

"Tate's mom isn't dead. If you're talking about Serena, she's alive and well. I've met her."


	5. Déjà vu

**Chapter 5 Déjà vu **

Tate lay on the hood of the Mustang; a cigarette between her lips, the steady pulse of her necklace gave off a faint purple glow under her shirt and watched the rain fall down around her. Not a drop of the steady down pour touched her; she had laid down thinking she didn't want to get wet and so far she hadn't. Alana had told her that being a Wycker was the closest thing the supernatural "community" had to a scientist; Wyckers had the ability to change the molecules around them. Alana could slow them down to freeze time and Nero sped them up to poof from place to place. And now Tate could change them depending upon her emotions and what the weather was going to be. So in her mind she changed the molecules and curved the chains of atoms; making a dome shape around the hood of the car to keep the rain away.

To Dean, finding Tate on the hood of the Mustang was something normal. She had always done that. But to find her laying there with the rain sliding to different sides around her was something new. Walking out into the rain, he made his way over and looked down at her. She was lying fully stretched out on the bone dry hood of the car, tapped her cigarette off the side letting the ashes fall to the wet pavement, slipped it back inbetween her lips and with her other hand she kept the beat of whatever song was playing through her iPod with her finger tips as they drummed on the hood. Tate felt Dean before she saw him, he walked into the "dome" and threw off her concentration, her mind not open enough to shield two people from the rain; quickly the rain straightened out and soaked the both of them. Tate let out a yelp and flew off the hood, putting her iPod in her pocket and dropped her cigarette.

"What happened?" Dean asked, wiping the rain off his face.

"You did it!"

"I did what?"

"Broke my concentration! I was keeping the rain away."

"Sorry! Do you want to go back to the ro…" The rest of his sentence was cut off when Tate opened the door to the Mustang and slid into the back seat. Dean got in on the other side and the minute he sat down on the leather, Tate flung herself at him. She buried her face into his neck and sighed.

"Baby?"

"Why does he have to do that to me? And the fact that my mom is alive! He pisses me off!"

"Tate, did you expect him to stay 'alone' forever?"

"Your dad did."

"No he didn't, he just never made it permanent."

"That's bullshit! I hate him for this!" She yelled, moving away from Dean and falling back against the door.

"Tate…"

"No Dean, I'm fine." The air in the car had dropped about thirty degrees, cold enough to make Dean shiver and allow him to see his own breath.

"Ta…Tate? Its fre…freezing." Her purple eyes flicked over to him and when she saw that his lips were turning blue, she jumped.

"Christ Dean! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She said, making it warmer again and going back over to him; putting her warm hands on his face. She didn't mean to do that, to make it so could icicles formed on the outside of the windows where the rain rolled down and she definitely didn't mean to do anything to Dean. The car went from feeling like the artic to a desert at noon in a matter of seconds. When his color came back and his lips went back to their normal shade of what Fancy called a 'shade darker than raspberries', Tate ran her fingers up his jaw and then through his hair.

"Dean, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'm gonna kill you aren't I? I'm either gonna freeze you to death or electrocute you."

"Stop it, you're not going to do anything. I'm fine." He said kissing her. A few minutes later, she pulled away and smiled at him.

"Guess I didn't do too much damage." She said, tracing his lips with her finger tips.

"I told you, I'm fine. Fine enough to go check out the college campus."

"Do we have to?"

"We were supposed to go earlier with your dad."

"Oh, so that was supposed to take place after I almost turned the place into a lightning rod."

"Yeah, I'll go get Sammy and try to convince Fancy to stay."

Tate slid down the muddy hill of the Alumni Green, her hand grouping around in the dark and let out a string of loud curses when she lost her footing; almost slamming into Sam. Convincing Fancy to stay was easier than she thought, she was asleep when Tate walked in. She left her a note saying they'd be back before morning. She was pulled out of her thoughts when her foot slipped again and she almost sailed right under Sam.

"Tate, I gotcha." Sam said, grabbing her by the elbow and putting her back on her feet.

"Why did we have to come at night? We can usually slip past the cops without being seen or just blend in." She hissed at the back of Dean's head as the three made their way down to the roped off crime seen that sat in front of Harriman Hall. The crime scene was a good 10x10 square of grass and in the center was one of the many SUNY Orange emergency phones. Each phone linked the college campus to the nearest police station, fire department and anything else needed when an emergency arose, including the school's own security station.

"Just calm down Tate and ease up on the rain." Dean said as he ducked under the yellow police tape.

"I'm not making it rain, its just raining. I can control the weather but I can't control something that's already been set into motion…idiot."

"I heard that." He said as Sam laughed.

"Glad you have such sharp hearing. Did you hear me in the car before when I said that I can get us through with my press pass in the morning?"

"Tate, you lost your job. That press pass isn't gonna work much longer and someone will find out."

"I didn't loose my job, I quit. And one day Winchester, the cops are gonna drag you in for credit card fraud after they find out all about the ones you have in the glove box."

"Guys, can you stop fighting and start working? Even though I don't think this is something we need to check out, we're here so we might as well." Sam said with a groan as he slipped under the police tape and followed Dean, the EMF reader in hand. Tate rolled her eyes and followed the boys, bending gracefully at the waist and slipping under the yellow tape. The mud was already caking the toes of her new boots, but when she dipped to slide into the crime scene she saw just how much had accumulated since she stepped onto the New York state school's campus and felt a sigh build up in her throat.

"Tate, can you do something about the mud?"

"Dean, we're going to go over this one last time, I control the stuff that turns the dirt to mud, not the mud and all that other crap. So no, I can not do something about the mud. Can we just get this over with? Its cold and my jacket is soaked." She said as she flipped her hood up and covered her hair.

She fell back, letting the guys do what they did best and she did what she did best; took pictures and stayed out of the way. She was about to slip under the other end of police tape to go look around the rest of the darkened campus when something hit her and shook her from the inside out. This was what she saw in her dream. Tate walked back over to Dean, who was kneeling in front of phone with the EMF, and put her hand on his shoulder. They needed to leave and she had to come up with a way to get Dean to move before the rest of her dream started to play out.

"Dean, I…umh…I want to leave."

"Babe, I'm busy. What's wrong? You scared?"

"No…I umh…feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"Tate…"

"No, I want to go. Please, now."

"Tate, whets wrong?" He asked, standing up and pulling her close. She heard Sam walk over and then out of the corner of her eye she saw the "Shadow-Man" mist together out of the shadows.

"Shit! We're leaving now!" Tate screamed, pushing Sam and Dean away with a powerful gust of wind.

"Tate, what the hell…what the hell is that?" Dean shouted, pulling out his gun.

"When I visited you in your dreams, you weren't here Little Wycker. You took off and left them alone." Shadow-man said, walking toward her. "So you are learning."

"Damn right I am and I'm not going to let you hurt either of them, especially Dean." She answered, stepping between Sam and Dean and the Unspeakable One; she already had three good sized bolts of lighting waiting in the wings to zap this guy with.

"Fine, I won't hurt them, but you said nothing about me not hurting you." He summoned Sam's gun just like he did in her dream and before Sam or Dean could do anything, he aimed at Tate and pulled the trigger. A shriek tore from her throat as the bullet burned through her skin and then the 'Shadow-Man' vanished.


	6. Revisiting Nightmares

**This is probably the shortest chapter I've written so far and really, I had plans to make it a lot longer. But when I wrote what's now the end, it came out so good I couldn't add something stupid and mess it up. So you guys are gonna have to wait till the next chapter for that "something stupid". lol. Anyways, keep reading and reviewing. I love all of the reviews I gotten so far. Thanks so much. B.E****

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****Chapter 6-Revisiting Nightmares**

"Sam! Damnit that hurts!" Tate screaming, pulling away from Sam and the needle he was using to stitch up her shoulder. She sat on the bed that Fancy wasn't passed out on with her back to Sam, her bra strap hanging down around her arm, the blood stained shirt she had on was washed out and hanging in the bathroom and held the thin top sheet close to her chest, an ill attempt to keep the chill she had created off of her skin.

"Stop whining! I'm almost done and keep your voice down! Fancy's sleeping!"  
Sam hissed as Dean paced the room again; his eyes falling on Tate. He couldn't stitch her up; he could stitch up Sam, Ben, his father and even himself if he could manage, but never Tate. He had learned from past experiences that his hands would start to shake; he'd drop the needle and wouldn't even get the first stitch through her skin.

"Dean stop pac…Son of a bitch! That hurt!" She yelled, giving Sam a dirty look.

"We should've given her something."

"No Dean, last time this happened and I had to stitch her up, you gave her so much Jack she passed out." Sam said, pulling the last stitch through and then tying it off. "Done."

"Good, get off me." She growled, pushing him off the bed with her good arm and then got off herself, leaving the sheet behind. Walking to her duffle bag in nothing but jeans, her green bra and nail polish on her toes and finger nails, she pulled out her pajamas and walked into the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind her, she turned and looked at her back in the mirror. Scars and tattoos littered the flat expanse of tan skin and then at the top of her shoulder was five inches of black medical thread. The bullet the "Shadow-Man" had shot at her only grazed her, but it had done enough damage for stitches; it was too wide and too deep to just put a butterfly band-aid over. Sitting down on the tub, she gently shimmied out of her jeans and quickly tugged on her flannel pajama bottoms with only a little pain to her shoulder. But when she went to pull her shirt on, she bit back a scream and quickly brought her other hand up, making sure she hadn't popped a stitch.

Pushing off the tub with a groan, she walked over and pulled the door open. Looking around the door frame, Tate saw Sam sitting on the end of the bed next to Fancy's feet and could hear Dean moving around, walking from one side of the room to the next. After that came Sam's complaint about him not being glass and had to move out of his view of the crappy television they had.

"Dean!" She whined, catching his attention and calling him over.

"Yeah baby?"

"I need help." She said with a smirk as he showed up at the bathroom door.

"Help with what?"

"My shirt."

"Knock if off!" Sam groaned, putting the sewing kit away. A minute later the door slammed shut and Sam fell into the bed next to Fancy, burying his head under a pillow.

"What's going on?" Fancy asked, opening her sleep filled eyes.

"Tate and Dean are in the bathroom together."

"Gah. I'm going back to sleep. Night Sam." She said, kissing him on the cheek and then curling up next to him.

Forty five minutes later, Tate and Dean stumbled out of the bathroom, skin flush, hair wet and Dean's lips pressed to Tate's neck. Her long hair was pulled into a long braid, running parallel with her spine. Both were dressed, Tate in her pajamas as planned and Dean in his boxers; their other clothes were left in the bathroom, and as they walked into the bedroom, Tate stopped short.

"Tate? Why did you stop?"

"Look." She said, pointing to Sam and Fancy. Fancy was curled up where she fell asleep in front of him on her side and Sam mirrored her, sleeping on his side too with his arm draped over her hips.

"What am I looking at? Want me to wake him up?"

"No! Leave them alone. I think they're cute together."

"Tatum Elizabeth, did you just say cute?"

"I think I did Dean, I'm allowed to say it once a month." She said, dropping gently down onto the bed and perched herself up by the headboard, sitting on top of the pillows.

"I think you took one too many pain killers before Sammy started stitching you up. _Cute_." He muttered, shaking his head and then pulling back the covers. Once he made himself comfortable, Tate moved and slid down across the mattress in front of him; her back to his chest. Once the two were settled, Tate's head laying on Dean's arm and his fingers gently playing across her uninjured shoulder, Dean decided it was time to ask her something he had been waiting to ask since they ran off campus.

"Why did you ask to leave earlier?"

"Earlier when?"

"Before that shadow appeared and shot at you."

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Tate I know you, you knew something was going to happen. Tell me." She let out a long side and ran a hand over her face.

"All right, I'll tell you. I saw it happen a few weeks ago."

"Saw? Saw like a vision or a dream, saw?"

"I dunno…its kind of both."

"Both? Who said so? Nero and Alana?"

"Yeah."

"So you have visions too now? Great, is it okay if I feel left out?" Tate looked up at him and with her good arm, pushed him away.

"You sleep over there and leave me alone for the rest of the night. I don't want to be bothered now." She said, curling up and pulled the thin top sheet up around her shoulders.

"Tate…."

"Enough Dean. I've had to deal with what I saw for almost three weeks and then I have to see it come true? Do you honestly think I was gonna let it play out and walk back over to where you were only to find you with five holes in your chest? No, I wasn't. When I realized where I was and what was going to happen, I decided to get the hell out of there, but I didn't move fast enough. So I did what I had to and I'm the one with stitches and you're still breathing. I think I did the right thing."

"Tate, I…"

"Save it Dean, not now. We'll talk more in the morning." She said, leaning over and placing an ice cold kiss on his cheek. When she laid back down Dean realized just how cold the room had gotten.


	7. Always a Woman

**This is chapter seven, a lot of stuff going on here. Mainly Tate-stuff. Anyways, its the longest one I've written so far and took me about three hours, of course it was typed in between IM conversations and homework, but still. It took a while and I really like what I got. And as always, in between all the Tate-drama, there's a little tiny smidge of creepy toward the end; its like two sentences, keep an eye open. I hope you guys like this, so I'm done and onto the chapter. **

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**Chapter 7-Always a Woman**

Dean sat in the passenger's seat of the Mustang, somewhere between sleep and the cold parking lot outside the door. He had barely slept the night before; he had just laid there starring at Tate the entire time. And now, with only an hour and a half of sleep under his belt, Ben had sent Tate a text message "demanding their presence" at that college. With the hotel room door and Dean's eyes opened just enough he could see in and watched Tate flying from one side of the room to the other; things in her hands, dropping them into different places and then zipping up other bags. She always got this way when Ben was involved; he drove her crazy. Sam, especially when he and Dean fought would always throw in his face that he was always doing whatever John ordered to get his approval, but Tate did what she did to make up for two kids; to get approval for herself and Garrett, in his stead. Sighing, he kicked open the car door, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, walked back into the room and almost got hit with something Tate had taken out of the trunk. But she hadn't thrown it; everything was flying around the room, floating around on a steady jet stream of warm air she had whirling around the place. The breeze carrying everything was frantic, quaking and erratic; much like Tate's breathing. Dean, who nearly got a Latin Bible to the face, ducked away from the "identified flying objects" and pressed a hand to the small of Tate's back. Tate jumped and when she fell back into her skin, everything came down with her; the Bible, her cell phone, pillows, her extra hoodie, Fancy's make-up bag, Sam's boots and the journal. Everything gently tumbled back to where it belonged, Sam's boots touched down with a thud and the journal flipped itself shut.

"What!" Tate snapped her eyes dark and endless.

"You need to calm down."

"Dean, I'm fine and besides, I figured you weren't talking to me after what I said last night. Whatever." She said, putting her lens cap on her camera.

"I am talking to you, not whatever and you're not fine."

"And how am I not fine?"

"Everything was just floating around on a breeze."

"That happened again? Fuck." She muttered as she dropped down onto the bed; Dean quickly followed, gently reaching up and curling a piece of hair around her ear.

"Again?"

"Yeah, earlier after I got his text. De, he's gonna cause me to kill someone."

"Not me, right?"

"I like having you around; you're pretty to look at." She teased, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

"I'm offended."

"You should be."

"I'm not pretty…"

"You're fucking sexy, excuse my slip." She said, kissing his throat.

"See, that's my Tate." He said, leaning over to kiss the side of her face. They sat that way for a few minutes, nothing but silence filling the room, and then Tate's phone went off; another text. Flopping back onto the bed, she grabbed her phone and quickly read it.

"Your dad?"

"He wants to know why we haven't met him yet. I have half a mind to text him back saying we were just in the shower together and I just gave you the best blow…"

"Tatum! Don't finish that sentence!" Dean shouted, trying not to laugh.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" She asked with that all too playing innocent look on her face.

"You can not send that to him."

"Then you do it. I don't care, as long as it gets sent. I'll get Fancy!"

"No you won't! You know what, don't do anything, don't even text him back saying we're on our way. Let's just go."

"Normally, you'd let me do that."

"Yeah well, remember, he's not exactly thrilled that we're back together." Dean said, pushing off the mattress.

"Since when has he stopped us? He can just go f…"

"Tate." And there was the voice, the one that usually meant she was pushing him too far.

"Yeah fine. One question though." She said as he fixed his jacket.

"What?"

"If I were to hit him with a bolt of lightning and then the cops found me standing over him, could I be arrested for murder? Or just get in trouble for not calling 911 fast enough?"

"Probably get a 'stern talking to' for not dialing fast enough. But other than that, you couldn't get arrested, unless they know what you can do."

"Oh, he's so getting it." She said, getting off the bed and following Dean out to the Mustang.

Ten minutes later, Tate pulled the Mustang into a space next to Sam, Fancy and the Impala. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift and rushed up to another plane, over the atmosphere and could almost touch the inky blackness that made up space. It was a plane that only Wyckers could reach and over the past few hours it had become her hiding place. The area around her fanned out like a map, lighting up in different colors, layers and textures; Sam, Dean and Fancy all gave off bright hot white light up there. She knew what she was looking for and ghosted across the campus. She found her father near the crime scene; he was nothing more than a flare of orange light with a deeper orange flare next to him and on his left was a flare too dark to recognize. Tate let go of the thread like map and dropped back into the Mustang.

"He's over at that damned phone." She rasped; her throat dry from her 'trip' and her mouth was filled with the taste of ozone.

"All right, let's get the kids and go." Dean said getting out of the car and then walking over to the Impala. A few minutes later, the four walked down the Alumni Green and Tate spotted Ben right away, back in his State Trooper uniform with another man, a rather 'smart' looking man in a suit and then next to him, when Tate's purple eyes fell on him, made her lip curl. Stopping dead in her tracks, she saw him and tried to turn around, only to find Sam right behind her.

"Move Sammy."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Ryan's here and there's no way in hell I'm going to deal with him."

"Who's Ryan?" Fancy asked.

"A pain in my ass that I'd like to forget. Stay away from him, he'll attack you."

"Attack?"

"Let's just say he's very lonely."

"Gross."

"Dean and I can go talk to him."

"NO! Sam, you and Dean can not do that!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Fancy and I will take care of. You take Dean and go talk to my dad." She said, grabbing Fancy roughly by her elbow and dragging her away from Sam.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't need him and Dean talking, that's all."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"You slept with him, didn't you?"

"Once, I was drunk and it was before I moved away."

"There's something else, I know you."

"It was also before I broke up with Dean."

"You cheated on that with _that_!" Fancy hissed as Ryan came into view; he was really something Tate shouldn't have done. Greasy slicked back almost black hair, depthless eyes, an okay face with a once gangly now turned into a many an hour spent in the gym body and a vibe about him that just made you want to grind your teeth together.

"Fance, we'll talk more about it later." She said as Ryan spied her, a cocky grin on his face, and crossed the grass between them.

"Tatum King, just like fine wine, you age better with time." He said, coming close to try and pull her into his arms. He smelt like someone had sprayed all of the free tester cologne the women at the 'Fragrance Counter' put out. But before he could even get one arm around her, she had her hand on his chest and was pushing him away.

"Ryan Nole, just like warm beer, you bore and disgust me."

"I gave you a compliment."

"And I decided to keep the liquor metaphor going, but I have no compliments for a weasel looking peon who attached himself to my father like a blood sucking leech." Tate bit out coolly as a ripple of wind breezed across her face.

"You abandoned him."

"I abandoned my father? You have balls Nole, ones I forgot to cut off last time we met."

"I remember that, I still think about it." He said with a sneer.

"You better, you'll never have me again."

"Oh I will, trust me babe." He said, playing with a piece of her hair.

"I know where those hands have been, get off of me!"

"Damn right you know where they've been, last time I checked they were on you." Tate heard Fancy gag a little.

"The only person who's had their hands on me lately is Dean."

"You're back with him when you could've been with me? I'm hurt. If he's still touching you, I think I'll take a stab in the dark and guess you didn't tell him about us."

"There was never an 'us'. You were just a mistake, a passing in the night, a cheap drunk worthless pity fuck!" Tate said, getting so close to him she could breathe in the scent of cheap cologne and burnt coffee. A cruel smile broke out on Ryan's lips.

"Ya know, seeing you after all this time, I excepted you to have changed, but you didn't. You're still that useless little girl that your daddy pawned off on John and replaced with me. And the irony of this whole deal is that when you wanted to pawn Dean off, who did you come to? You came to your replacement and begged like a cheap whore for me to 'make the pain go away'. I can still remember hearing you say that in that tiny whining drunk voice of yours. And I made the pain go away, about three times that night. I hope you enjoyed it, _little girl_." Ryan hissed, looking Tate right in the eyes the whole time. Nothing had ever stung her so deep and with a shudder, she felt Fancy push her out of the way and stood in her place in front of Ryan.

"Listen up fuck-face, I'm gonna say this once and it better get through all that slime you put in your hair. You have some balls, insulting her like that. Using her father and Dean against her, calling her little girl. I've known her for five years…"

"You don't know her very well then."

"Shut your mouth! You don't speak when I speak. But I've known her for five years and she's a woman that I want to be like; I strive to be like. She will always be the woman I aspire to be. You have no idea the shit she's dealt with. The things she's gone through, what she's seen. You have no right you little shit to say what you just did. What happened between you is in the past, it was a mistake. Hell, she was torn up; look what she was leaving behind! She left the best thing in her life for a shot at normal and she fucking got it, she's won awards in Boston, crawled and fought for what she has. And now, look what happen? She got that best thing back in her life. And you have the nerve to call her on it? You're not even worth my time." Fancy growled; her brown eyes hard and icy. But as she stepped away, Ryan turned back to Tate and smiled.

"First it was Garrett, then Sam and Dean; you still can't fight your own battles huh baby?"

"I can fight my battles just fine."

"Oh yeah, prove it."

"Fine." With the force of a fifty mile an hour wind, Tate slammed her fist into Ryan's nose and smiled when she felt the bone of the bridge snap against her knuckles. The minute her fist retracted, his hands flew to his nose and like a wave crashing against the shore, blood flooded from his nose, seeping through the gaps in between his fingers and down his front. An almost roar like scream ripped from his throat and looked up at the two women in front of him.

"You bitch! You bitch! You broke my nose!"

"And you fucking raped me! We're even! You took advantage of me! Once, shame on you, twice shame on me, three times shame of the sorry ass bar keep who found you the next morning in the parking lot stranded behind the dumpster naked with no car, car keys and nothing between you but the trash bag you were hiding under!"

"I swear to God, you'll pay for this."

"Like hell I will." She said as she watched Sam, Dean and Ben rush over. "Say a word to them and I swear you'll be going home to your shitty father in a body bag." All she got was a grunt and Fancy giggled. When Sam and Dean got there, Ben trailing behind, Tate just rubbed her knuckles and smiled up at them.

"What did you do Tate?" Dean asked, eyes darting back and forth between her and Ryan.

"He…"

"He started saying shit, called her a whore and everything Dean, so she umh…took matters into her own hands, so to speak." Fancy said, keeping an eye on Ryan.

"Wait…you called my daughter a whore Ryan?" Ben went from shocked to pissed off in a matter of seconds, Fancy learned where Tate got it from and watched his eyes wildly glow at the young man he had treated like a son. Dean didn't look much better and before Tate could reach to stop him, Dean had Ryan by the collar.

"I never liked you, even when I was younger. There was something about you I hated and I think I know what it is now."

"Well tell your girlfriend what it is. She didn't have any problems liking me before you two broke up. She came to me before she left! She was with me the night you two had a huge blow out about her leaving. She found me at a bar, the same bar you worked at! She found me! Hell she begged for it! She wanted what she got!" For a guy with a broken nose and with a man twice his weight almost on top of him, he had balls, he was stupid but had balls; Tate gave him that.

"You didn't just say what I think you did." Dean was shaking everywhere; from his voice, to the hand that held Ryan in place and to the one that was balled into a fist.

"I did! Ask her! Ask her! I dare you, ask her!" Ryan shouted and all eyes fell on Tate. Sam dropped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, knowing she'd need it if what Ryan was screaming about was true.

"Tate?" Dean's voice softened, taking on the tone he usually had with her.

"De…I…its true…but, but I didn't ask for it! I would never ask for it! I only went there because I knew you weren't working and knew you wouldn't let me do what I wanted; I got smashed. So smashed any guy I looked at looked like you! Dean, I was so gone. I…I…didn't even know he was…was there! He came to me! I didn't ask for it Dean! I told him no, he didn't stop! I screamed; he took me outside in the alley behind the place. I screamed louder and he punched me. I…I tried De, I…I…tried so hard! I screamed for anyone! Everyone! Frank the bartender, you, Sammy, hell I even tried for Garrett! But no one…no one heard! De…I tried, so hard. Three times! Three…I tried so hard…" She gave up and fell into Sam; sobs matching the newly free falling down pour. From her place burrowed in Sam's shoulder with Fancy hugging her from behind, she heard a loud crack and remembered she didn't summon any lightning. Raising her head up in time, she saw Dean's arm come back and his fist open up, his fingers flexing. Looking over to Ryan she saw that now, not only was his nose on the other side of his face but his eye socket and probably most of his cheek bone had sunken in; the skin limp and already turning a sickly purple green.

Dropping Ryan, letting go of his jacket and letting his body sag back into the grass, Dean stood and walked over to Tate, brushing past a stone still Ben. He pried her off of Sam and away from Fancy, pulling her in to him; wrapping his jacket around her. Dean jumped when he felt her arms wrap around his waist and lock right above the small of his back, she was pulling herself closer. Huge rain drops and too warm tears seeped in through the front of his shirt. Around them, Sam, Fancy and Ben stood in awe, never had any of them actually seen anything other than the raw, need/want/have side of them; this was something new, something they didn't know really existed. Fancy watched Dean rock her back and forth, a slow steady rhythm and felt the wind die down to all of a sudden become in sync with it. A few minutes later, when the wind had finally died, Fancy heard Tate giggle and cocked an eye brow; watching her push off of Dean's chest.

"You're an ass." She choked out in between laughing.

"What did you do Dean?" Sam asked and Fancy heard him roll his eyes.

"Nothing!"

"He was humming!"

"Tell me it wasn't Metallica, Dean." Sam whined.

"AC/DC." He said as Tate spun around, raked a hand through her hair and dried her eyes; looking right at Ben.

"So, do we have work to do or what?" She asked as Dean came up behind her, a hand on each hip and his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you sure…."

"Yeah dad, its better if I work." She said as Ben started walking back down the green; Sam and Fancy followed, leaving the two of them alone with Ryan.

"What do we do with him?"

"Leave him De. We've done enough." She said as she started to walk toward her father.

Up on the fourth floor of Morrison Hall, Kathryn Meekos looked down at the Alumni Green, watching the five walk across it, and then down at the ring engagement Ben had given her.

"Stupid girl, she has no idea what she's getting herself into." She muttered as the shadows swirled behind her.


	8. Hits and Misses

**Chapter 8- Hits and Misses**

Tate and Fancy sat in the Commons cafeteria; it was in the main campus building's ground floor, with an order of cold French fries, burnt coffee and flat soda and the laptop between them. While Sam, Dean and Ben stayed outside to do whatever Ben had planned, the two of them were going through the local newspaper's electronic archive which Tate had hacked into. They were looking to see if any other deaths or murders had occurred on campus.

"Kingy, I think I found something." Fancy said, slapping Tate on the arm; pulling her from her thoughts.

"What?" Tate rasped, blinking away the blurry image of Ryan's busted face. It had been the only thing she saw since leaving him out on the green to call himself an ambulance. After that, the guys split away from them and the girls went to the car to get the computer.

"This death, obviously there have been more before it. They each happened twice a year for two straight weeks; the two weeks before winter starts and then two weeks after spring starts. This happens every two years and look at the date; two weeks before winter starts." Tate slid the laptop in front of her and read the article herself.

"Sounds like something to do with hibernation. Like an animal storing food for the winter and then coming back into circulation for the spring."

"So, do we tell the guys and your dad?"

"When we meet back up with them." The girls were quiet for a few minutes, Fancy still plugging away on the laptop and Tate doodling in her journal, her mind miles away.

"Hmm."

"What Fance?"

"These deaths they started about twenty years ago in the spring of '86. That Kathryn woman your dad's engaged to was hired as the English Department Chair Woman in January of '86. Look at her picture here." She said, opening the thumbnail picture. Kathryn looked old and weathered; wrinkles etched deep into her face and hands, she looked nothing like the woman she almost jumped the other day at the diner. She looked young, a little older than her and Fancy.

"Now, this picture was taken in April '86 when they opened the Harriman Art Gallery." There stood Kathryn again, looking just as she did at the diner. Before Tate could go any further, the familiar sound of bickering and looked up, finding Sam and Dean walking out with paper plates filled with cafeteria food and drinks in hand. Rolling her eyes, she pulled her camera bag off a seat and made room for one of them on her left, Fancy did the same thing. Dean took the seat next to Tate and Sam next to Fancy, nothing unusual.

"Find anything?" Sam asked, looking at Tate.

"Fance, show him that article." She said, kicking back in her chair and stealing a fry off of Dean's plate. She watched him watch her hand snake back and smiled at him, but not getting a smile in return. Cocking her head to the side, she looked up at him and with her best glance, tried to look at his face; but his shoulder got in her way. She knew that trick, he was ignoring her.

"Tate?"

"Hmm?" She snapped away from Dean and looked at Sam.

"What do you think? Its obviously Kathryn."

"But what about 'Shadow-Man'?" Fancy asked.

"Maybe she's controlling him. Maybe she's a vampire or something."

"A vampire doesn't seem right, they have the power to toy with the minds of things and control them. He seems like her servant." Tate said, toying with her prism. "And he was once a Wycker, so he's evil. That's why he is what he is; shadow and darkness."

They talked shop for the rest of the time there, mostly Sam and Tate, Fancy came in when she could, not really knowing as much as they did and Dean, Dean stayed out of it, playing with the laptop and looking things up only when his brother asked. Tate again kicked back in her chair, stretching and watching students leaving the Commons, when a thought hit her.

"A succubus!" She almost screamed, snapping back up in seat and almost hit Dean with her shoe when her legs kicked back to the ground; another cold empty look. That one made her feel cold on the inside.

"Sounds about right, maybe she stole the Unspeakable One in his dreams. Seduced him and trapped him. And now, she's using him to bring her more victims."

"But why Sammy?"

"All I know is that it sounds like your dad is in trouble."

"Just great." Tate mumbled, raking a hand through her hair. Feeling a nudge at her arm, she turned and saw Dean looking at her.

"What?"

"Pass me that."

"Pass you what?"

"Never mind." He said, pushing his chair out and getting up, roughly snatching up John's journal and then went to sit back down.

"All you had to do was say the journal or pointed and I've gotten it."

"I got it, its fine." Tate felt her upper lip curl and Fancy watched the air start to snap with static, her hair standing on end.

"Fine! Be a bitch Dean."

"Mature Babe."

"Ya know what…no, I'm not gonna start. Fancy, can I talk to you? Alone, please?" She asked, standing up.

"Sure." The two took off for the bathrooms right outside the cafeteria. Walking into the ladies bathroom, Tate let out a strangled yell and kicked the radiator.

"What's wrong now?"

"Him!"

"I see that, gotta give me more to work with here Kingy."

"He's being…he's such a…I fucking…he's looking at me differently."

"Hell, he's not even looking at you."

"Fancy!"

"It slipped! It slipped! I'm sorry!"

"Whether is slipped or not, you noticed it too."

"Tate, he's probably just upset about the Ryan thing."

"Yeah well he doesn't have to ignore me."

"Talk to him."

"We don't talk, this is all my fault."

* * *

Tate stood in the bathroom; her contacts in their case, her glasses sat on the counter top and watched out of one blurry eye as her reflection wiped away her make-up with a warm face cloth in the mirror. She was tired; a day full of vomiting up old secrets and research would do that to a person. So they were dealing with a succubus posing as a teacher and as her father's fiancée with an Unspeakable One as her chained lap dog. Just another day at the office. Slipping her glasses on, she picked up her toothbrush and grabbed the toothpaste Dean used, muttering to herself the entire time.

"My father's engaged to a demon and my mother got married to her rescuer; my family is so made for Days of Our Lives." She mumbled around the stiff bristles of the brush. Hearing the door open, Tate jumped, dropped the brush into the sink and watched Dean walk in.

"Hey babe. Can I get to the sink?" He asked, literally pushing her away from water the brown water stained basin.

"Dean, I was…forget it!" She said, throwing the toothbrush across the small room. She went to storm out, but Dean grabbed her by the wrist.

"Babe, what's wrong?" He watched her eyes flash, her jaw set, hip jut out and weight shift to her right leg; she had become a ticking time bomb ready to explode, in Dean's general direction.

"What's wrong! Everything's wrong! You think because you know one of my deep dark secrets you can use it to push me around? Use it against me like Ryan did?" Tate shouted, her voice bouncing off the tilted walls.

"Tate, I never…"

"It is what you think! I knew it! I fucking knew it! It explains everything!"

"Every…?"

"It does! Why you've been acting weird! Why you refuse to look right at me! I know, now you have damaged goods in bed with you! I get it!"

"Ta…"

"Whatever." She breezed past him, out into the main room, right past Fancy and with a gust of wind, nearly sent Sam through the front door. Walking out to the car, barefoot and wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top with still wet hair, she went to open the door and nearly screamed when she realized it was locked. She was fresh from the shower, wearing barely anything and it was inching on ten degrees out. Shivering and too damn proud to go back and get her keys; she slid onto the hood, perched over the warm engine. She sat there, with the air around her a humid seventy five degrees, and pulled her legs up under her chin. She sat there for almost an hour before the door opened. Dean stood in the doorway, still in his jeans with a sweatshirt on, her extra one his hands, and looked at Tate.

"Am I allowed out here?" He asked.

"Guess so." She said with a shrug. Dean walked over and Tate let go of the hot air, letting him drape the hoodie over her shoulders. The car shifted and whined, adjusting to their combined weight.

"So, are you gonna tell me what that freak out was for?"

"Can you see it? Is it written on my forehead? _Rape Victim, Damaged Goods, Messed Up, Not Worth It, Dud, Lemon, No Good, Deserved It, Hazardous Materials? _Which one? Pick your favorite. I mean there has to be something there for you to look at me different." She said, tugging at her sleeve.

"Look at you different? _Damaged Goods? _Babe…."

"My name isn't Babe; I really don't want to be called that right now. And all day, that's all you've called me. Its Tate! How hard is that? Four letters just like yours! All I did was tell you something and you forgot my name!" She shouted, tears threatening to fall as she slipped off the car and bit down on her lip.

"Come back over here." Dean pleaded, reaching out to her.

"No, I'm not. You won't come near me, hell you didn't even look at me before at the Commons, you've been avoiding me like I'm diseased. Whatever happened, you can't catch off of me. If you could, let me tell you, you'd be screwed." She said, starting to pace around the empty parking spaces and skipped over a broken beer bottle, all she needed was a cut on the bottom of her foot.

"Ba…"

"Finish that and they'll never find your body."

"How does Tatum Elizabeth sound?" He nearly growled.

"No need to get bitchy."

"Tate, look, about this afternoon. Yes, I was avoiding you…"

"Knew it."

"Let me finish. I've been avoiding you because it did happen almost ten years ago and I should've been there ten years ago to fix everything; that included. But I wasn't and I'm pissed off about that, pissed off that I found out today, so fucking pissed off that I found out thanks to him and I know you're pissed because everyone found out that way. I probably wouldn't have wanted to, but I would've wanted you to tell me."

"Dean, we don't talk about things like that."

"I know, I know we don't. We're not good at talking."

"Nope. We never needed to talk before."

"But we're not the same as we were before."

"Exactly." He said with a sigh.

"What are we going to do?"

"No clue."

"I vaguely remember a conversation like this when we were eighteen, it was right before I left."

"Are you going to leave again?" Tate's eyes snapped up and looked right at him, she hadn't heard that tone of voice in a long time; he sounded hurt. The last time she had heard that, she did leave. Peeled out in a rain storm, leaving him behind in the mud.

"I'm not dressed and don't have my keys." She said with a smile.

"I'm being serious."

"Rare."

"Tatum…" Sighing, she crossed the parking lot and stepped into him, wincing as she stepped on a sharp piece of gravel.

"Yeah I know and really I haven't thought about running away in a long time. I'm sick of running, its time to stop…I guess."

"So you're not gonna take off once I fall asleep?"

"Well, I did plan on running away with my lover Javier, he's a pool boy at my hotel, but I think I can change the days around; give you an extra week because somewhere deep down, I kinda like you." She said, flicking his nose. "No dumb ass, I'm not going anywhere, you're stuck with me." She said, as Dean smirked down at her.

"Just a week huh?"

"Yeah, seven days in some countries."

"Is this one of them?"

"According to my planner."

"So, what are we going to do with just seven days?" Before Tate could answer him, Sam appeared in the door way, his cell phone in hand.

"Guys!" His voice echoed through out the dark and if Tate wanted to, she could've made it traveler farther with the right amount of wind.

"You have got to teach him better timing." She muttered against his throat.

"I thought that's why you brought Fancy."

"Lousy teacher. What Sammy?" She called over her shoulder.

"Your dad just called, there's been another murder on campus." He said, watching as Tate untangled herself from Dean.

"Gimmie five minutes, I need to get changed." She said, leaving Dean on the hood, nothing between them any closer to being solved, and walked in past Sam.


	9. Death of a Wycker

**Hey guys! I'm actually posting this chapter from my job at school, so be lucky there's not a class in the computer lab and I have time to do this. Anyways, I love the reviews you've been leaving, so thanks so much. Now I'm going to leave you all alone, get back to work and let you read. B.E **

* * *

**Chapter 9-** **Death of a Wycker**

The Impala and the Mustang pulled into side by side parking spaces; Sam and Dean getting out first, while Tate just starred out the front windshield and watched Dean walk over to a hunter green 1964 Corvette Stingray. Popping her door, she stepped out into the cold and grabbed Sam.

"Wake up Fancy."

"Why didn't you?"

"I have to go stop Dean from feeling up my dad's car." She said, walking through the parking lot and over to the Stingray. In the horrible lighting from the timer turned on street lamps, she could see Dean's face light up; the total kid in a candy store look. **  
**

"Dean, you're drooling." She said, leaning back against the driver's door and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I am not. But do you see this?"

"Yes, I've driven it."

"What?"

"It's my dad's. He got it a few months after he gave me the Mustang."

"How come I've never seen it?"

"Dean, we all went our separate ways after I left." She said simply with an almost shrug. Her eyes shined bright in the darkness, almost like they were glowing again like they did back at Weston Park right when she called down the lightning and Dean shuddered a little.

"Cold?" Tate asked, kicking up an eye brow.

"Yeah, lets…umh start moving." He said, waving over Fancy and Sam. The four trudged through the snow, the white stuff had come down earlier during the day causing a fair amount of afternoon classes to be cancelled. Walking up the already cleared away walk way, Tate spied Ben waiting for them outside one of the buildings.

"Took you guys long enough." He mumbled around a cigarette.

"Dad, not now. What happened?" Tate said in a low warning tone.

"James Mitchell, chem. teacher in the Bio-Tech building. Found him stone cold dead, gray as those snow clouds earlier."

"She sucked the life out of him." Fancy muttered, looking at Sam.

"What did you say? Do you guys know something and haven't told me?" Ben almost growled.

"Dad, please. Don't start this. Look, we know a little, but that's it. Now, where's the Bio-Tech building?"

"This way guys, there's ice be careful. I don't need you breaking your neck Tate."

"I know dad." She muttered, catching up to her father. "What's wrong dad?"

"Nothing kiddo."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. Look, I'm not John, Sam or Dean; you can't bully me into telling you things."

"I never said that dad, but you're clearly pissed off, I'd like to know why."

"It's the Ryan thing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Dad, what would you have done if I sat you down and told you? You freaked when I went out bra shopping with my friend's mom."

"I guess you're right, but why didn't you tell Dean either?"

"I just didn't, it seemed like all the more reason to go. Like it was that one last thing I was missing to convince myself into leaving. I dunno, I was drunk at the time dad, it made sense then."

"How are you and Dean?"

"Same as always."

"Fighting?"

"Didn't I just say same as always?"

"Yeah."

"There's your answer."

"How's work?"

"Quit."

"What happened?"

"My editor was a dick."

"Oh."

"Yeah…umh can I have one?" She asked, tapping the box of cigarettes in his front pocket.

"Yeah, here kiddo." He said, giving her one and then lighting it for her. She could hear Fancy and Dean talking behind her; she was fighting him, saying her El Camino was better than the Impala. She took a drag from it just as Sam laughed at Fance.

"Dad, how come we only talk like a normal father and daughter when we hunt together?"

"Dunno kiddo. I really don't know. Here's the building. You're gonna have to put that out."

"I am not, I need it. I'm gonna go over there and finish it." She said, walking over to a small over hang on the Bio-Tech building, with a set of steps that led down into the gardens and finished off the rest of her cigarette. She watched Dean walk in and rolled her eyes when he winked at her.

"Idiot." She mumbled, taking another drag. Standing there, she watched the moonlight dance off the still sparkling snow, her eyes following each twinkle of light. But something obscure caught her attention, stubbing out the cigarette on the railing and pulled her MagLight from her back pack. Racing down the steps, she ran toward the snow filled Green. Jumping up onto the Plane, she saw things as clear as day, almost like on a heat seeking map, and saw Kathryn in her true form; snow pale skin, matching bat like wings and a eyes slit like a snake's; a true succubus, great that was all she needed.

"Hey bitch!" Tate never learned, every time she yelled that at something, it always came back to bite her in the ass. The succubus turned toward Tate and with a flick of the wrist, sent Tate flying. Her body rushed back, flying through the icy biting wind and slammed into one of the stone walls lining the garden. A scream escaped her when the jagged stones stabbed at her, the sharp edges piercing the skin of her back through her thick leather jacket. Getting up, Tate literally pushed through the pain and willed herself to run back toward the Green. She'd get that bitch if it had to take her all night and a trip to the emergency room.

Tate stumbled; her body throbbing with pain and slowly started to give way under her, but she'd be damned if her knees actually tumbled into the snow beneath her. A swift kick, strategically place right between her shoulder blades, sent her hurtling down. For a minute she saw stars, blinking and never ending. Her knees buckled, stomach churned and her palms sunk three inches down into the cold, powdery white stuff. With a groan, she turned her eyes up to see who had kicked her and found Ryan standing over her, face still badly damaged and nose packed with more cotton balls than the limited amount that you could buy in a bag at CVS.

"Get her to her feet." A smoky voice purred off in the shadows. Tate's purple eyes darted around, trying to find who had given that order, and then felt herself being tugged away from the ground; Ryan long fingers squeezing her shoulders, digging his finger into the still healing wound she had there. A strangled scream escape her as he grabbed her, her body trembling and once on her feet, gave out with a shake, sliding down his front.

"Get her to stay up, you useless ingrate!" There was the voice again and this time, the shape emerged from the darkness, shadows swirling around her; it was Kathryn. Tate watched each wisp of shadow break off of her body and slowly took shape, forming an arm or another limb, she saw whatever is was come alive from the darkness; the Unspeakable One.

"Nero! Alana!" Tate's voice rang out; carried along by the blast of wind she created and prayed they heard her.

"Shut up!" Kathryn shrieked, backing handing her across the mouth, her engagement ring cutting a long shallow slice in Tate's cheek. "They can't help you child."

"Fine, I'll try something else! Sam! Dean! Fancy! Dad!" Her voice was loud and clear, reverberating off the trees, buildings and echoing out through the snow. Kathryn laughed; her eyes cold and stern.

"They can't help you either, especially your precious boyfriend."

"Where are they? Where are they! Answer me you bitch! Where's Dean!" A roll of thunder, breaking through the thick storm clouds, shook the campus grounds, sending small tremors through Kathryn and Ryan, the Unspeakable One seemed not to notice the shift.

"Don't worry dear; once we're done here we'll get rid of them too." Kathryn cooed, brushing away some of Tate's snow filled hair. Tate pulled at Ryan's arms, feeling the stitches rip away from themselves and her skin, and with a struggle, flail of her arms and a backwards kick to his shin; she tumbled free. She rolled on her shoulders, nipping up and standing her ground, her body tense and smirked at them.

"Now what are you going to do?" She challenged, her eyes turning an eerie shocking purple, so bright they lit up her entire face, and when they rolled back in her head, no whites left just neon violet; Tate reached up and felt for the lightning. Her finger tips brushed the bolts, caressing them the way she would've petted an animal, and with a jerk, tugged the power into her hands. When she opened her eyes, still liquid, molten purple, she looked down and found two thrumming white hot spheres of energy incasing her fists.

"Sebastian, I need you!" Kathryn screeched; the Unspeakable One took a step towards her and for the first time, Tate realized that he had actually once been a Wycker. He was handsome, with close cropped almost penny copper hair and matching eyes, brighter than any liquefied copper. Around his neck hung a prism, much like the one Tate wore, just not with a lightning bolt wrapped around it. His was an interlocking knot shape that Tate had seen before, somewhere.

"Yes Milady?"

"I want you to summon all of her power and give it to me." Kathryn's eyes said; her eyes locked on Tate.

"Oh hell no." Tate challenged, power crackling in the air around her.

"Hold on a moment Sebastian, I need to have a chat with the Little One." Kathryn walked over, brushing past the overly charged air around Tate, and touched the side of her face.

"You don't know what happens if I take your powers, do you?" Tate didn't answer; instead she cocked her head back and spit in Kathryn's face.

"Little bitch!" Kathryn screamed, slapping her across the face. A second later, she regained her cool and smirked at Tate. "You know what, once I take your powers, you'll be dead." Tate went whiter than the snow she was standing in. "You didn't know that did you? Alana and Nero forgot to mention that, didn't they? Without them, you die. Ryan, hold the little bitch."

"With pleasure." He hissed, pulling Tate back into his arms.

"Now Sebastian, I want all of her powers!" Kathryn shrieked.

"As you wish, Milady." The penny like orbs pierced through Tate and he stuck out his hand. Tate felt a tug come all the way from the back of her spine and then something started to burn. She doubled over; the back of her thighs brushing Ryan's legs, the pain spiking, spiraling and swirling, rushing through her entire body sending her into spasms, shakes and convulsions. Tears blurred her vision and blood seeped from her mouth. The lightning she had held burnt out and vanished. She was sagging, her body literally breaking down, but Ryan's grip on her upper arms became vice like, and she could feel the circulation being stopped. A second later, a Tate shaped figure made out of brilliant purple light appeared, a cord connecting the light and Tate together.

Sebastian reinforced his iron clench he had on the purple light and closed his fist, pulling it closer to him. The silvery purple thread grew taunt and so thin that it almost looked like a spider web. Tate looked up; blood still seeping from the corner of her lips, down from her nose, eyes and ears, and reached out for the thread. When she touched it everything went still and Tate heard hurried steps behind her.

"Alana…" She breathed out.

"Shh child, save your strength."

"But my…"

"Shh, we'll take care of it. Nero, get her away from him and hold her up." Nero did as he was told and pried Ryan's claw like fingers off of her. With a sigh, she fell into Nero, her cheek pressed against the plane of his chest.

"Nero…"

"Shhh…"

"I feel…"

"Just shush. We'll fix everything."

"I'm dying."

"I won't let you." He said gently, brushing her back off of her sweat and blood slicked face. Looking up at him, she saw him shining down at her with his warm gold eyes and soft smile, for the first time in a long time, she felt completely safe. Part of her looked up to Nero like she would a father, he had taught her so much in the few short months she had known him and she held a great amount of affection for him.

"Don't let me." She rasped; her voice fading.

"Never." He looked down and made a face, screwing his face up and sticking his tongue out at her. Tate laughed, but it sounded more like she was just pushing air out through her lips.

Alana walked away from the two and over to Sebastian. With her long fingers, she uncurled his fist and the familiar thrum of life flooded back through the thread; lighting back up the faded purple figure and bringing the lights back to Tate's eyes.

"Tatum, grab it! Pull the thread as hard as you can!" Alana shouted as Nero held her up, her body flush against his. With a trembling hand, she pulled hard and the light slammed into her. Her body arched and let out a gasp, thing and lighting fought in the sky for dominance, snow, rain and ice pelted each other and huge gusts of wind ripped across the campus. Finally, her body sagged back into Nero's.

"Nero, we need to find Dean, he can take care of her."

"Where did the succubus tell Sebastian to lock them?"

"In a room on the fourth floor of Morrison Hall."

"Let's go." He said, scooping Tate up into his arms and then watching Alana wrap her fingers around his elbow. They disappeared and then with a crack of electricity reappeared in the middle of a small crawl space attic with a slanted ceiling. Sam and Ben stood at the door, Ben stopped in the middle of throwing his shoulder into the door, Dean froze mid pace and Fancy jumped up from the old wooden crate she had been sitting on.

"What happened to her?" Dean growled as Nero dumped her into his arms.

"Not now Dean, just hold on. Nero, the door." Alana ordered, stroking Tate's hair and watching Nero disappear and then saw the door swing open. Nero came walking back in and looked at Tate. He had promised not to let her die; she wasn't looking any better than she had when he and Alana first found her.

"How'd you get in here?" He turned, asking Ben.

"After Tate left, we all went into the Bio-Tech building and went to meet up with the cops, to check out that death, but then…I don't know, it all got dark." Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck, Nero could see a long red mark, part of it splaying out onto his collar bone.

"Nero it was him, Tate's 'Shadow-Man'." Fancy said, wiping away a stray droplet of blood trickling down from her split lip. "He caught us and then poof, we're up here."

Dean shifted Tate in his arms, bringing her closer to his chest and then looked up at Sam. Sam had only seen that look in his older brother's eyes once; when the Dark Room Ghost had Tate and they almost lost her.

"Can we get out of here?" Sam asked, asking for Dean.

"Yes, let's go." Alana said, literally directing traffic and leading everyone out. They made it down to the main floor of Morrison Hall and then out the front doors, doors that led straight out into the parking lot. It had begun to snow again, just flurries for the time being. Once in the parking lot, Fancy and Sam headed toward the Impala with Nero in toe, Ben walked alone to his car and Alana got the passenger's door for Dean to set Tate down in. Once she was in the seat, the two looked down at her and then Dean looked over at Alana.

"What do we do now?"

"Take her back and put her in bed."

"And then?"

"And then we wait."


	10. Rebuilding the Freshly Broken

**Chapter 10-Rebuilding the Freshly Broken**

Tate's eyes opened with a slow flutter; make-up stained skin dragging across blood shot eyes and with a hoarse groan, pushed herself up into a sitting position; the cheap hotel blankets pooling at her waist. One of Dean's shirts clung to her sleep warmed skin, her clothes from the night before sat on top of her duffle bag in the corner. Smoothly, she swung her feet to the floor and stood, her weight coming up off the already sagging mattress. She stood over the bed, looking down at a still asleep Dean. He was sleeping on his side, one arm curled under his pillow, keeping his head in one place and the other rested at his side, probably tossed over Tate's waist sometime during the night. Her tired eyes, free of her contacts and aching for her glasses, scanned over him and landed at his own waist; his jeans rode low on his hips. Then it clicked, he had literally given her the shirt off his own back and most likely fell asleep watching her. She shook her head a little and then flicked her eyes toward the window.

It was inching on eight in the morning and the only light slipping in through the crack of almost threadbare moth eaten curtain was a sluggish stream of gray light. She crossed the thin, greasy, stained carpet and pushed back the almost see through red material. Outside the snow was coming down hard; almost six inches covered the hood of the Mustang. She could barely make out her car's shape. Letting the curtain fall back into place, she padded back past the bed where Sam and Fancy slept in a tangle of long limbs, dark strands of hair and swirled blankets and made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the lights, she watched one of the three bulbs over the mirror flicker out, dying in a snap and sizzle the way only a light bulb could, and looked at her reflection. Her glasses hung to her face, not even really covering her eyes, the bags under her eyes were too dark to hide with cover up and there was a long slice on her cheek; not that she knew how it got there. Her skin was pale, sickly and bruised. Her eyes were a mess of molten, exhausted purple and angry fiery red streaks. Her whole body throbbed; dull mind aching pains coming from here and there, each gnawing at every nerve she possessed.

"Tate?" Looking toward the door, Tate heard Dean's sleep roughened call and peaked out into the room; her long hair tumbling down around the backside of her head like a reddish curtain.

"Right here." She answered, tinkling her fingers at him. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched him push himself up off the bed and shuffled over to her. The two just stood there, starring at each other, waiting for one to move first. Tate jumped when Dean's hand reached out and cupped her hip, his palm curving smoothly over the bone. It was supposed to be a gentle touch, but gentle fell away and opened up to hesitant.

"I'm not going to break."

"You almost did last night." Tate arched an eye brow and looked at Dean. What had he meant; 'Almost did'?

"Dean, what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"Last thing I remember was smoking a cigarette outside." Dean pulled her in tighter, gently stroking her sides. "De, what happened?"

"You almost died."

"Again?"

"Yeah, again."

"What happened this time?" She hated the way that sounded but it had become apart of her life.

"That bitch wanted your powers, so she asked the Dark-Side Wycker to 'summon' them. Without them…"

"I die." She whispered and the sound Kathryn's voice swam through her mind, telling her the same thing Dean had just said; her voice filled with venom and hate_. "__Alana and Nero forgot to mention that, didn't they? Without them, you die." _ The vision of Kathryn right up in her face, hissing those words, floated across Tate's mind's eye and she shuddered.

"I won't let you." Dean's voice pulled her back and she found herself starring at him.

"Dean…"

"No, I won't let you."

"Dean, it could happen. I could walk outside, fall off the sidewalk and break my neck or that bitch could turn Sebastian back into a vacuum again. Listen, I don't want whatever that might happen to me be the reason Sam becomes an only child; you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you."

"And you won't listen."

"Damn right." Tate gave up, rolled her eyes and flattened her cheek against his chest; his arms coming up around her.

"Asshole, gonna get yourself killed and I know there's no way I can stop you."

"No, there isn't."

"You're such a pain in the ass."

"But you're not getting rid of me."

"Yeah, for some odd reason I love you."

"Yeah I know. I'm just irresistible." Tate almost choked on her tongue and bit back a laugh, covering it up as a cough.

"You're an idiot…Dean." She muttered in between yawns. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at Dean and found him looking down at her. It was an odd look; almost too warm and caring for Tate's tastes, too un-Dean like. Reaching up, she flicked him on the nose and laughed.

"Stop looking at me with the Chick-Flick eyes."

"I am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to!"

"Am not!"

"Shut up! And move I need to get into the bathroom." Fancy ground out, showing up next to the two.

"Sorry Fance."

"Shut up Tate; it's nice to see you're alive though. And Dean, I like the whole shirtless/jeans and bed-head combo; very sexy look for you. Keep it up." She said, giving him a smirk before shutting the door behind her. Tate chewed her bottom lip up under her top row of teeth and tried to stop herself from laughing at what Fancy had just and the look on Dean's face.

"I'm beginning to hate her." Dean said, tugging Tate by the arm back to the bead.

"And that's why I love her. Move over." She said, watching Dean fall onto bed, taking up most of it like he always did. She was about to lie down next to him and fight for her spot when a knock on the door filled her ears.

"I swear never a moment's peace. One day, I'm gonna get a day off." She muttered, pulling her jeans on from the day before and then walked over to answer the door. Yanking it open, letting some of the fresh snow come swirling in, she found herself face to face with her father, holding a carrier of coffee cups and a bag from Dunkin' Doughnuts.

"Room service; didn't know it came with this hotel."

"Morning Tatum."

"Yeah, c'mon in." She said, stealing a cup from the carrier and pushed the door open enough for him to come inside. As Ben made himself comfortable on the other side of the room, handing Dean a coffee of his own, Tate walked over to Sam's bed and sat down next to him. He was still dead to the world and with her free hand, brushed his hair back.

"Wake up Sammy." She cooed, running her finger tips across his forehead.

"Go away."

"It's almost eight thirty and you're still in bed. What's wrong here? No up with this sun, bright and early crap today?"

"Too tired."

"Fancy keep you up late?"

"No, we all were up watching you last night. Making sure you didn't die. And if that was the reason I'm too tired, I wouldn't be telling you." He said, hiding his face back in the pillow.

"Fance would tell me."

"No she wouldn't."

"Yes she would, it's a fair trade. Details for details."

"Go away."

"Will coffee make up for this?" She asked, playing with his hair again.

"It's a start." He groaned, pushing himself up off the bed and stole the coffee filled cup away from her.

"Hey! Bitch!" She said, getting up and going to sit down on the other bed with Dean.

"Bigger Bitch."

"Jolly Green."

"Shrieking Violet."

"God, not you guys too!" Fancy groaned walking back out, looking a little more awake. "Morning…umh…Mr. King?"

"Ben's fine Fancy. How ya feeling Tate?" He asked as Dean wrapped himself around her.

"Okay; sore but okay."

"Okay enough to hunt?"

"Yeah, why?"

"We have a succubus to kill."

"Wait, you know?" Dean asked, looking at him; his grip on Tate getting tighter than she wanted.

"Know about Kathryn? Of course, I've been hunting her for years."

"So this engagement is a trap?" Sam asked, his eyes carefully watching Ben as he took a sip of the coffee cup his fingers had been wrapped around. Sam knew his tricks, he knew when Ben was lying to them or not. It was something he had picked up from watching Tate do the same thing to her father.

"Kind of. I needed to get close enough."

"So marrying her was your first thought? Not going after her while she feeds on a victim? Ya know; that was my original plan for that dark room ghost a few months back." Tate bit out, locking eyes with Ben.

"Tatum, not now."

"Fine whatever." She said, going back to twisting the ring on Dean's hand around.

"So you're saying Tate almost dying could've been avoided if you told us what you knew last night?" Fancy almost growled. Tate could see she was getting madder than she wanted to be.

"Knowing my daughter, she would've gone after Kathryn anyways. But if Tate wasn't Tate, yes, it could've been avoided."

"Okay, let me get this straight, you're telling me by not telling us you decided it was better to put her life on the line than to share the wealth and keep this all to yourself?" Fancy asked, taking a step toward Ben.

"Fance, calm down." Tate said, looking at her best friend and then to Sam; cocking her head to the side. With a snap, Fancy was sitting on the bed in front of Sam much like she was. "Dad, I have a question."

"Shoot Tate."

"I'll tell you how pissed off I am about this later; but when we go, can I be the one to kill her?" She asked with an overly sugar coated, disgustingly sweet smile.


	11. Catching the Shadows

**This is one of the longest chapters I've written for anything in a long time. It took me the entire school day to write, yeah this is what I do at college. haha. Anyways, I really like how this turned out and I hope you guys do too. So I'm keeping this short since the chapter's so long. Hope you like it. **

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**Chapter 11-Catching the Shadows**

Tate sat on the bed, warm jeans, a black skull decorated thermal long sleeved shirt and her combat boots covering her body, with the laptop in her lap and without moving her eyes, move the mouse; flipping article pages. Sam and Ben had gone out to clear some of the snow off the Impala and Mustang; leaving Tate, Fancy and Dean alone. Fancy stood in front of the dresser doing her make-up in the square wall mounted mirror and Dean was in the shower.

"Whatcha doing Kingy?"

"Looking something up."

"What?"

"How to get rid of the Unspeakable One."

"Got anything?"

"Not a goddamn thing." She said, watching Fancy put on mascara and then turned to see Dean walk out of the bathroom, tugging a shirt down over his head. He winked at her at he came to sit down behind her; his body warm up against her back.

"Why didn't you come into the shower?" He almost purred, pushing her hair off her neck.

"Wasn't in the mood. Get away, I'm busy."

"Busy? You're always busy."

"I'm not doing this right now, it's too early and I'm too tired to fight with you. Go finish getting ready so we can leave."

"Tate..."

"No whining, go." She said as a breeze picked up, ruffling Fancy's hair and with tired eyes watched Dean's boots and jacket drop onto the bed. "Finish. And leave me alone."

"Kingy, teach me that so I can use it at the bar."

"If I do that, I'll be out of a job." She sighed, shutting the laptop and saw Dean hunched over, tying his boots. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she smirked at Fancy; who decided to duck into the bathroom, and then wrapped herself around Dean. Her hands flattened out on his stomach, chin resting on his shoulder and her lips ghosting over the skin of his throat.

"I'm busy."

"You're also a bad liar De."

"I'm a good liar." He said as he got a kiss behind the ear. "I learned from you."

She heard the smirk in his voice and with quick fingers, worked her way under his shirt; pinching the skin here.

"Bastard, I never taught you to lie, I taught you better things."

"Fun things.

"Very fun things. Now, let me help you get ready to go." She whispered into the nape of his neck, pressing a soft kiss there as her fingers skirted across the waist of his jeans. "I hate button-fly jeans." She almost growled, the pads of her fingers moving across the brass buttons.

"You wear them."

"Let me rephrase. I hate button-fly jeans on you when we only have a few minutes and Sam has a room key."

"Makes more sense now." He said as he heard a button pop.

"One down, like what, fifteen more to go?"

"Four, quit being dramatic."

"Dramatic huh? I'll leave."

"No, you stay." He said as he grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her legs around him; she hit the mattress with a yelp as her legs were literally pulled out from under her.

"I guess I could stay. I have nothing else to do, outside of killing a succubus." She said, moving his shirt away and kissed his shoulder.

"That can wait, she'll be there later."

"Yeah later; two done, three to go."

"Want me to help? This could've been done already."

"Again, I'll leave."

"No you won't, you'll stay. So, I'll let you finish."

"Figured' you see things my way." She said as he leaned back against her; boots forgotten and kissed her throat as she popped another button.

"Three."

"Tate, this isn't fun anymore, stop teasing." He growled, shifting against her.

"Fine, we'll do it your way." She said, grabbing either side of the material around the buttons and tugged; hearing the last two pop.

"Happy now?" Before he could answer her, Fancy opened the bathroom door and peaked her head around, her hands over her eyes.

"Can I come out now?" She asked, keeping her eyes shut. Tate, with an overly dramatic sigh, flopped backwards on the bed, taking Dean with her and almost screamed, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Yeah Fance, you can come out. C'mon Dean, get up. We have to go." His weight was warm and solid against her, it didn't bother her; she was used to it. He had a bad habit was shifting while he slept and usually Tate pushed him off of her left side sometime during the night. Fancy walked out, her hand still shielding her eyes, and made her way over to the bed her and Sam shared.

"I'm sorry guys."

"It's fine Fance. Don't worry about it. Dean, get up." He didn't exactly get up, just pushed himself up enough and flipped over so they were nose to nose. "This isn't what I meant when I said get up. By get up, I meant get off of me, beast." She teased, cocking a grin at him.

"Beast? I'm not moving then."

"Dean! Get off!"

"Listen to me for a minute." She turned her head to the side and found his arm, grabbing his wrist. She watched the hands on his watch tick away.

"You're wasting time here."

"I'm tired of this."

"What's this? You need to be more specific, twenty seconds...nineteen."

"Tatum!"

"What? Speak, go ahead. You have my full and undivided attention."

"I'm tired of this, every time we start something, anything really, the..."

"The door opens, a phone rings, someone yells for one of us, the alarm goes off, Sam bangs on the car window, Fancy walks out of the bathroom; sorry Fance."

"No problem." She said, clipping her necklace around her throat and Tate flicked her eyes back to Dean.

"De, you don't think I'm tired of it too? First it was Sam, then our dads and Garrett those few times. I get what you mean. Believe me, I get it."

"And now Fancy."

"Hey, I was in there for five minutes, I gave you guys time. I was this close to starting to count bath tub tiles."

"Well you should've started counting; you didn't give us enough time." Dean yelled back at Fancy and got hit by Tate.

"Both of you finish getting ready and quit bitching. Dean, let me up."

Twenty minutes later, after more bitching and fighting between Dean and Fancy, all of them were driving back to the campus; the Mustang leading the 'pack'. Ben in his Corvette followed by his daughter and then the Impala rumbled behind him. Fancy sat next to Tate in the passenger's seat, tapping her nails on the door and barely looking at her.

"Fance, I'm not mad about earlier and if you're upset because Dean's mad, stop. It'll only make him more of an ass and he'll know he got to you."

"I know you're not mad, but Dean has a point. I shouldn't have walked back in on you guys. You never have time together."

"It's been this way since we first got together, its nothing abnormal. Hell, getting walked in on is the only thing normal about us."

"When this is over, I'll kidnap Sam for the weekend and give you guys time."

"Fance, you know we'll probably kill each other, right?"

"I don't care; I already made up my mind."

"Then I'll pay you back somehow."

"I'll figure something out."

"Of course you will." Tate said as she pulled into an empty parking space. It was only ten in the morning but the other spaces around her were already full; morning classes were going strong. The guys parked further down, giving Tate some time to get things from the trunk. She was pulling out a gun when she felt Dean behind her.

"Go away, I'm busy and this time I mean it.

"I know I'm just coming to help."

"Yeah, yeah, I believe you."

"You should." He said as she jammed the magazine into the gun and turned in his arms, looking right at him. She kissed him quickly and then stepped away from him.

"We'll talk more about that later."

"I'm holding you to it Tate."

"I know." She said as he kissed her just as quick.

"Guys, stop making out and let's go." Sam yelled as Ben took off through the parking lot, shaking his head. Tate caught up to Sam and with a perfectly timed jump, leapt up onto his back; her long legs wrapping around his waist and threw one arm across his chest.

"Tate, get off of me!"

"That's the exact same thing I said to Dean earlier."

"Dean! Fance! Get her off of me!"

Ben stood on the curb, looking down the small hill and into the parking lot: watching the four of them. He had no idea what kind of childhood Fancy had but he knew for damn sure it wasn't like his kids; Sam and Dean included. He didn't do anything for a few minutes, just watched Dean and Fancy try to untangle Tate from Sam. The father in him, the man in him Tate swore didn't exist, felt his heart clench. It was rare to see them just having fun, acting like the kids they were never really allowed to be. Ben knew Tate's twenty seventh and Sam's twenty third birthdays were inching closer and that Dean's twenty seventh had passed; when had his kids grown up and where had he been that he missed it?

"Guys, stop fooling around. We've got work to do."

"Aww daddy! I was having fun!" Tate whined and for a minute Ben saw the eight year old he remembered before he turned her into a solider.

"Tatum."

"Yeah I know. Jesus. Let's go before he had a shit-fit." And there was his 'precious' twenty six year old again.

They made their way onto the campus and just as Tate stepped onto the snow covered Alumni Green, she head a familiar pop and then watched everything around her freeze; Alana and Nero. Ben eyed the two that literally appeared out of thin air and watched them come over to Tate, the woman hugging her and the man clapping a hand on her shoulder. He had a lot of questions about these two, especially since Nero popped back in carrying an almost dead Tate.

"Stay away from my daughter!" Ben yelled, aiming a gun at Nero.

"Dad! They're 'good guys' and my friends. Put the gun down!"

"He doesn't know what you are does he Tatum?"

"Not now Alana. Where are you here and why is everything frozen?"

"He's coming."

"Nero, I need more than that?"

"The Unspeakable One." He said and out of the corner of Tate's eye, right next to Dean, she saw shadows mist together. A hand reached out for Dean's arm and just before his finger tips brushed the bruised leather of Dean's jacket, Tate sent a lightning bolt right at him. Dean jumped, Fancy screamed, Sam backed away and Ben just starred at her.

On the ground, the Unspeakable One went into convulsions, bright white hot pain striking each nerve. Slowly he formed into a human shape and stood, starring at Tate. Tate heard Alana's breathe hitch and turned to look at her; an eye brow cocked in question.

"Sebastian…"

"You know this shit head?"

"I loved him once."

"Always gotta complicate things huh Lan?"

"I'll handle this." Nero and Tate watched Alana walk over to him. They couldn't hear what was being said but Tate felt a shift in the air, a power flux, and then screamed when Alana's body came hurtling toward them like a bowling ball. Thinking fast, Tate called a warm updraft and caught her in it. Bringing her down, laying her body on top of the snow, Tate looked to Nero; her eyes bright.

"Get them out of here. All of them, especially Dean."

"Tate…"

"Now! I'll do this." Nero nodded, gently collected Alana and did as Tate said; gathered up Sam, Dean, Fancy and Ben. The Unspeakable One, Sebastian, eyed Tate carefully and then flashed her a cold grin.

"Good job Little One, get rid of the ones you love so they don't have to watch you die."

"I'm not dying."

"We'll see." With the world around her frozen, Tate looked around. Students stood on the snow covered grounds, frozen mid step, sentence, mid everything; birds just hung in the sky, even the snow flakes stopped mid fall toward the ground and yet the clouds over head still churned. Calling another gust, a much more powerful updraft, she lifted herself off the ground and starred down at Sebastian.

"Try and get me up here." She taunted and quickly regretted it. Stones, more like boulder, unearthed from the ground below came up at her, trying to get smash her into bits. Lightning cracked down around her, hitting each boulder and cracking it into tiny pieces; a shower of pebbles coming down on Sebastian. The rocks kept coming and she kept turning them into gravel.

"Enough! My turn!" She blew him back with a huge gust of wind and without hesitation thought up something to trap him in. A few seconds ticked by and then with a freight train like roar, lighting rained down on the sky. It snapped into a lattice work like fence and then with another furious snap, the fence closed in on itself; a perfect white hot lightning cage. Tate shot down another bolt, linking Sebastian and the cage together, like handcuffs.

"Little One don't! By killing me you have no idea what will happen to you!"

"I'll take my chances; if by killing you means I can get closer to killing Kathryn, I'll risk it."

"Little One no!"

"I hate being called that." The lightning handcuffs lit up; a shriek of pain ripped from Sebastian. When the screams stopped, Tate let go of everything; the wind holding her up and the lightning cage. Smoke rose off of Sebastian's body, Tate never noticed the squirming black cloud that out of him, and with a steady movement, touched down on the snow and walked toward him. She kneeled down and looked at him. Blood oozed from everywhere, his body broken and Tate knew she had caused it. Part of her felt horrible, the other part was still undecided, he had tried to kill her.

"Lit…Little One." Sebastian looked up at her with warm penny eyes and tried to smile. But he only managed to tug back his lips a little bit and showed off blood stained teeth.

"Yeah?" She asked, brushing back wispy bangs. Something had changed in him, he was no longer the twisted looking man she had first seen, he looked like a Wycker; calm, peaceful and handsome, almost like Nero looked. Warm melted penny eyes shined up at her and were housed in the face of a handsome young man with matching colored hair that was held back in a short ponytail; he looked like an artist. That was what Alana had seen in him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Freeing…me."

"From what? What did I do?"

"The Oscuro."

"The 'dark'. Dark what?"

"Too…late now. Tell Alana…to…to find me."

"Where?"

"She'll know." And then he was over taken by a bright cooper light and all that was left of him was the scorch marks in the dead grass below the snow. As the light died away, Tate heard Nero pop back in and turned to see Dean pop in with him.

"Tatum, what happened?"

"I…I killed him Nero."

"You set it free!"

"Set what free?" Before Nero could answer, Dean watched the sickly looking black cloud slam into the small of Tate's back.


	12. Dark Side

**O.K guys, this is chapter 12. I think within two or three more chapters, I'll be done with Dark Grounds. Now, you've all been through this before with me; what do you guys think of another story? I mean, I have ideas for what to do with Tate next, but I don't want this to seem like I'm 'beating a dead horse'. So let me know what you think.**

**Anyways, onto chapter 12. It might get confusing in parts but don't worry, it all works out in the end.****

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**Chapter 12- Dark Side ****  
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Red hot power slammed into Tate; her vision went white and a scream built up in her throat. The power erupted in her, filling her entire body; from her finger tips to her toes, every cell, muscle and nerve thrummed with electricity. It course through her, her body pulsing with life; it felt like fire and the strongest liquor she had ever drank mixed together and flying at lightning speed through her veins. It burned and hurt like hell but Tate loved it; thrived off of it and began to feel like she needed it just to survive. It felt like her first kiss, getting high off that first pure hit, topping the Mustang out at 150 mph and having the best sex of her life all rolled into one incredible jolt. She opened her eyes; black and shining like polished obsidian, and felt like the most powerful orgasm had just washed through her; leaving her limp and sated. When she looked over to Dean and Nero, one of the cruelest smiles Dean had ever seen graced her flawless features.

"Hey baby." The voice that tumbled from her wine red dyed lips was whiskey roughened and venom laced. The voice didn't even belong to Tate and that wasn't the only thing that had changed. Her hair went from the long sun kissed red to a choppy mop of long-ish black and blood red dyed strands, the all of the piercings she had kept hidden from Dean appeared; a silver and red bar erupted through her eyebrow, a black star in her nose, a ring through the middle of her lip and he swore he saw a flash of silver in her tongue when she spoke. Gone were the jeans and long sleeved shirt and were replaced by a red fish net shirt under a black paten leather corset and skin tight black leather pants that tapered into knee high lace-all-the-way-up leather boots.

"Tate?"

"Yeah De?" She asked, her voice coming out like a rough silk purr and Dean watched her squirm around in her skin, literally getting a feel for her new 'skin'.

"What happened?" He asked, walking towards her. Nero's powerful hand shot out and grabbed him around the elbow.

"Don't Dean, that's not Tatum. It might look something like her, but its not. That's the Obscuro."

"What's the Obscuro?"

"It's what turns Wyckers into the Unspeakable Ones. It feeds on power and since Tate killed Sebastian she had the most power. It transferred itself to her. We have to get rid of it before Kathryn shows up."

"Why? What does Kathryn have to do with it?"

"Like goes with like; evil with evil, power with power."

"But that…it looks just like Tate."

"But it's not Dean, it's just a façade, call it a clone, a shape shifter, a doppelganger, but its not, not for one minute, the Tate that we know. She's not your Tate."

"So how do we get rid of it? I want Tate back." Dean grounded out, looking back at the Gothic copy of Tate, who was at the moment discovering that her powers were ten times what they were now that she had changed. She was almost giggling every time she sent another bolt of lightning into the ground. She was shooting off another, one that shot right through a bench, when Kathryn appeared; her body drawn to the Copy's escalated powers like moth to a flame. She almost floated over, her feet never once touching the snow and drew Tate's 'twin' close, she had what Tate and the Obscuro needed; more power, pure raw power.

"Tatum my dear, you look stunning."

"Thank you." Kathryn wrapped an arm around 'Tate', the way a mother would a daughter, and turned her toward Dean and Nero.

"Tatum Lovey, they want to take your powers away. They want to make you nothing but a boring lowly Wycker again. You like how this new power feels don't you?" Tate merely nodded, her body thrumming with some sort of twisted excitement. "Now, here's the plan. You want to keep your new powers don't you?"

"Yes."

"All right; we need to get rid of them; those two bad men."

"But Dean…"

"Dean doesn't love you, he wants your powers." Blinded by the power and furious energy that flowed through her, the part of Tate that had succumbed to the Obscuro's power believed her, believed every lie Kathryn spewed out at her. But somewhere, deep down buried right beneath the white hot power sat the Tate that had been overtaken, the part that was still thinking for herself.

"No! No! C'mon! This isn't happening! Hey…umh Me! Don't listen to her! Don't! She wants to use us against them! Stop!" The 'real' Tate screamed, trying to claw onto whatever was truly left of herself.

"Now Tatum, we need to make the bad men go away. I want you to lock Nero up in that beautiful electric cage, just like you did Sebastian."

"Why? I thought Nero was my friend." She sounded like a five year old learning for the first time right from wrong.

"He's jealous of your powers Lovely, of your new found strength. He wants to get rid of you, take away your right to be Queen of the Wyckers. He doesn't want you around anymore lovely, make him go away."

"Yes Milady." A spark ignited in those dark eyes and slowly, they rolled back and her mind flew; singing a song to the sky above, asking permission to have the lightning.

"Nero! Nero move! Get Dean out of here!" Tate screamed from the inside, praying Nero would hear her thoughts, but nothing happened. He still stood there, telling Dean God knows what, when the first bolt of jagged bright purple light came down. Tate had never felt less in control in her life; she had been on hunts that got out of hand, had both the Impala and Mustang spin out on her several times and had fights with Dean she had no handle on, but this; being taken over by the Obscuro was the worst.

Tate, the one with the obsidian eyes, watched the lattice work form again and slowly curl in closer on Nero. A sick smirk twisted on her lips and she could feel Kathryn's claw like nails squeeze her shoulder.

"Good girl, Lovey. Now, the other."

"But Dean, I…"

"You just love the idea of Dean. He really doesn't love you Lovey; he doesn't understand what you've become. You know how he is, how his eyes wander, how he acts around other women and how he flirts when you guys go out. He doesn't love you Lovely, I'm so sorry. I know how you feel, how it is to love someone who only wants you for their own personal gain, he wants to use you, to use your gifts."

On the inside, the small spark of light that was what remained of the real Tate, the spark started to ignite and with some unknown fuel, Tate literally added fuel to that spark

"Listen to me! Not to Kathryn! Dean loves me! Loves us! Stop this! Don't hurt him! Please! I love him!" The flame roared but the Obscuro was in charge and the shout that Tate had given off inside was drowned out by a burst of power. 'Lovey' as Kathryn had christened her, summoned up one hell of a lightning bolt and hurled it at Dean. Through Lovey's black eyes, Tate watched the bolt strike Dean and with a shriek, began to break through the Obscuro. Lovey shook her head, as if she was fighting off a dizzy spell and called down two more bolts, sending another one directly at Dean and curling the other around her fist. Tate screamed louder this time, watching Dean hit the snow and Nero struggling against the cage, trying to help him.

"Kathryn, let Tatum go! This isn't a game."

"But it is Nero; Benjamin King thinks he can destroy me? I know he knows what I am and I know if I have his precious Tatum on my side, he'll do whatever I please."

"And what do you want from him?"

"I want him gone, out of the way, kaput."

"Why?"

"With him gone, it leaves a gap in John Winchester and without his best friend there by his side and his boys gone, John's mine for the taking."

"So by using the girl that's almost John's daughter, you think you'll be able to pull this off?"

"Tatum is the key. Lovey, pour more power into Nero's cage, shut him up."

"Of course Milady."

"Tatum wait!" Nero screamed, sticking an arm out through the lattice work bars. Tate, deep on the inside, grabbed at something with invisible mist like hands and called Lovey to a halt, stopping her own body mid step and prevented her, for just a second, from calling down more lightning. She needed to hear Nero.

"Tatum listen to me, I know you're in there! You can fight this! Fight this! Tatum, I have faith in you. Fight her! Fight them both!"

"Nero you old fool! The girl is dead and there's no fight left in her. Lovey, more lightning please." Kathryn asked, her eyes shining as bright as spot lights.

But nothing happened, well nothing on the outside, on the inside all Hell had broken loose. Winds had been called; the atoms needed to make lightning had been pulled down from the sky and into the poster child for the Goth scene body. The spark that Tate was grew stronger, channeling all the fury she had been building up since she was fourteen and threw it at the Obscuro. On the inside winds shrieked, lightning cracked, thunder bellowed, waves crashed, rain pelted and then nothing; it all ended. Out through the thin layer of skin that covered Tate's body a wispy gray smoke fluttered up toward the sky, the sad pitiful remainder of the Obscuro and just like that, Tate was in control again.

Tate looked out the black eyes that were still in black, down at the hands that were supposed to be hers, thick silver and bronze rings shaped like skulls and dragons covered all ten fingers, the red fish nets hooked around her thumbs and crawled up her arms and the leather, oh the leather was nice, it felt cool under her fingers and hot against her skin. It was fantastic; she could get used to the look. Tugging at her hair, she pulled at a piece that curled around her ear and bit back a growl, this part she couldn't get used to. Closing her eyes, she envisioned herself with long hair again, long 'Cherry-bomb' red hair with black tips and when she opened them, she felt the silky strands slide down over the leather; oh yeah Tate was definitely in charge again.

"Lovey, I asked for more lightning! Stop playing with your hair and do as I said!" Kathryn squawked

"Whatever you say, Milady." Tate sneered and with a laugh, tugged down two handfuls of lighting and then lunged. She caught Kathryn by surprise, jamming her hands straight through the guise that was her body and shoved her lightning covered hands in as deep as she could go; lightning laced fingers clenched around the black void that served as her heart.

"Lovey…!" Kathryn screamed and Tate tugged her close, so close their noses bumped. With that smirk, the smirk Dean had helped her perfect, she looked down at Kathryn, watching her closely. Kathryn's dying green eyes widen when she saw 'Lovey's' obsidian eyes fade back to the warm lavender petal purple that Tate's eyes normally were.

"I'm not a play thing or Lovey, Kathryn. I'm a bitch."

"NO!" Kathryn shrieked again as Tate threw herself in it; bringing more lightning with her. With a howl of wind, Kathryn's body lurched, changing back to her Succubus form and then with a growl of thunder, exploded around Tate into the same black diseased looking shadow that the Obscuro had been. Tate fell forward, power flying from her and landed knees first in the snow. With her hand, she scooped some of the cold white stuff up and rubbed it across her neck. She let out a shaking breath, seeing the white puff of smoke play across the cold morning air around her and then felt a hand on her shoulder; it was Nero.

"Tatum…"

"Where's Dean. I saw what she…I…whatever did to him, where is he?"

"That's what I…"

"Nero! Tell me!"

"He's dying." He said simply, looking into the purple eyes that were ablaze.

"Like hell." She jumped to her feet, stumbling weak kneed every few steps and then crashed into the snow next to Dean. He looked paler than the snow he was laying on and she seesaw the fight in his eyes giving up.

"No. No. No, this can't happen." She said, pulling his head into her lap. "Dean, De please. Please, can you hear me? Please hear me."

"I can hear you just fine; stop repeating yourself." He whispered, looking up at her. She laughed down at him, her eyes filling up with tears, tears that had doused the flames Nero saw a second ago.

"I…I didn't mean to do this. It wasn't me! I…"

"I know."

"Please, please don't do this to me. I can't…you have to stay."

"You'll be fine, with or without me."

"Like hell I will, you have no idea how bad I was when I first moved to Boston. Please, please stay."

"You'll be fine."

"Dean…"

"You looked great though, the whole 'Goth/rocker' thing really works for you." He said as his eyes slipped shut.

"NE…!" Nero was there before she could even get to the 'R'. Without asking her or saying a word, he dropped hand onto her back and closed his eyes. Tate didn't remember being 'poofed' from the Alumni Green to the top of Morrison Hall, she had been out of it, but now, wide awake and her mind going a million miles a minute, she came to one conclusion; she did not like being poofed. It felt like going through a wind tunnel, tugging her one way and then at the same time, being tugged in another direction. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and waited for the tugging feeling to stop. When she opened them again, she found herself sitting on the floor of a completely white washed loft space; nothing but bright white walls to her and to right, above her was a factory type ceiling and below her was plain white tiles.

"Where the hell are we?"

"This is a space only reserved for Wyckers."

"That answers a whole hell of a lot of questions; I only see a white room Nero."

"I don't Tatum."

"What do you see?"

"The place where I feel safest. Close your eyes and think of that place."

"I will after you do something for Dean." She said his head still in her lap. He hadn't moved it was like poofing had only changed their scenery and nothing else.

"Of course Tatum, let me get Alana and the others. For right now, close your eyes and picture someplace safe."

"But Dean…"

"He's fine."

"You said he was dying!"

"Here he's not. Just relax and close your eyes." He said before disappearing. Tate grumbled but did as she was told and took a deep breath, closing her eyes when she let the air slip out between her lips. She had never had a 'safe place' in her life; all she knew was the seats in different cars and hotel rooms; occasionally she stayed with Pastor Jim or Bobby, but other than that it was the same. Most of the time she didn't even feel safe in her own apartment. Taking in another deep breath she thought harder and when she opened her eyes she found herself in a familiar living room. Not her own but one that had been hers before, it almost felt like a past life. She was in the small cabin her father owned, the same one John, Sam and Dean moved into with them; grouping the four kids together for almost two years while they disappeared for weekends on hunting trips. Tate was about to get up and look around when Nero poofed back in, Alana at his side and another man, probably another Wycker standing next to him.

"Who the hell is he and why the hell does he look like my dead brother?!" Tate meant for it to come out more as a shock than a growl, but it hadn't happened that way. The Wycker she was looking at, with the blinding sapphire eyes, looked almost like Garrett. He could've been his double.

"I'm Griffin and I'm here to help." He said, giving Tate a warm smile.


	13. Sober Tears

**Hey guys! This is chapter 13, I've got one or two more chapters for this story and then onto the next. So the creepy's over for Dark Grounds, I hope you all liked it so far; I liked it a lot, personally a lot better than Dark Roads. But which story I liked better is another story for another time. So, I hope you guys like this chapter, there's nothing creepy about it, just more Tate drama. So umh...keep reading and reviewing. Thanks. **

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**Chapter 13- Sober Tears**

Tate eyed this new Wycker; Griffin, and kept at snarl at bay. She didn't like him. She didn't need to know two bits of his personality, his appearance and mannerisms was enough to turn her stomach. His face was too much like Garrett's, too much like her own, his eyes were almost the right blue and he looked just like she would've guessed Garrett to look like at twenty six. She watched him move, every movement; the twitch of his hands, the flick of his head, the way he tapped his foot; everything was too much like Garrett. And when she saw him take a step toward her, the sound of thunder echoed through out the room.

"Let me help you, he's fading away Tate." He said softly, sitting down next to her Tate. He sat on her father's hand laid hardwood floors, she didn't know what he saw beneath him and really didn't care what his 'safe place' looked like. With a steady hand, he cautiously reached out and put his hand on Dean's forehead, keeping his eyes on Tate the entire time.

"Why do you look like Garrett?" She asked as his eyes closed and breathing evened out.

"I take one some of the features of the last person I healed."

"Wait…Garrett died almost eight years ago; a little rusty?" She asked with a dangerous smirk.

"No, a few days ago I had black hair, now it's blonde. I was healing a blonde woman in a car accident."

"But Garrett died you asshole! You didn't heal him! He's still dead!" She hissed, swatting his hand away from Dean.

"Tatum, it was Garrett's time. I did what I could. Now, if you want Dean to live, you'll shut up and let me do my job." He growled, sapphire eyes flashing as if someone had hit them with a spot light. She smiled at him, she liked people who weren't afraid of her and had the balls to yell back; they were her favorites.

"I'm warning you right now _Griff_, if he doesn't wake up I'll kill you."

"I believe you, I know how much you love him; we all do."

"We? Who are 'we'?"

"All of us, the Wyckers. Now, can you leave? Let me finish?" Tate just nodded; gently sliding out from under Dean and stood.

"Fix him."

"I will."

"I can't…."

"Don't worry Tate, he'll be fine. Your father is looking for you, he has been for awhile." She left her old living room, leaving Griffin in a room that only he could see how it truly looked, and walked down her familiar halls. She found Sam, Fancy, Nero, Alana and her father in the dining room, all sitting around the table. Tate didn't reach out for her father, Fancy, Nero or Alana; she ran right for Sam and fell into his arms. His long arms circled around her back, pulling her into his chest and with balled fists, Tate clenched her hands around the soft material of the hoodie he was wearing. Strong hands rubbed her back and Fancy watched him duck his head down to Tate's ear, whispering something no one else was privy to.

Fancy stayed out of the way, watched the two and slowly realized what she had missed between the two. The connection Tate had with Dean ran deep; it was raw and passionate, an ever burning flame. But the one she had with Sam was just as deep and completely different; it was gentle, something that needed to be nurtured and pampered. Fancy knew she loved both brothers in similar and different ways; obviously, one was her lover and the other her best friend. But Fancy began to understand it was more than 'best friend' with Sam; Sam was her baby brother and she was his older sister, his other protector. Fancy felt a little jealous and hated herself for it; Tate was such a big part of him and she knew she couldn't compete with that. The other half of her was screaming, saying she was wrong to be jealous of Tate, she was the 'new kid' and Tate was the veteran when it came to the Winchester brothers. She kept watching Sam and Tate and for the first time, she saw Tate shaking. Her best friend's body was literally crumbling to pieces against Sam and she could see him trying to keep her together.

"Shhh…Tate, shh. It'll be fine. I promise you. Nero, can you get her a glass of water?" Sam asked, holding her tighter. Sam hated seeing her like this; it rarely happened and when it did, he was never sure how to deal with it. It wasn't something Dean put up with; he didn't deal with the tears.

"C'mon Tate. Over here." He whispered, slowly moving her into the small family room off the dining room and sat down on a couch, taking her with him. On the couch, he pulled her right up alongside him and watched her drop her head onto his shoulder.

"Sammy, that wanna-be Garrett better fix…fix everything I did. I swear if he doesn't…" Her voice broke off as she reached up to swipe away more tears that she refused to let fall.

"Tate, Dean's not Garrett; Griffin will fix this." Sam told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze as Ben showed up with the glass of water Nero had gotten. With red rimmed violet eyes, Tate looked up at her father and cocked an eye brow.

"What do you want?" She rasped, her voice scraping against her throat.

"Tatum…" And there was the 'dad-tone'.

"Stop that, I'm not ten anymore and I'm sure as hell not your 'baby girl' anymore."

"Sam, can I have a moment alone with my daughter?"

"Yeah, I'll go talk to Nero and Alana, see if anything's going on." Sam said, getting up and walking out, pressing a quick kiss on the top of Tate's head before he left. Ben took his seat and Tate slid further across the couch, leaning against the arm and pulling her knees up under her chin.

"What dad? I've got bigger problems to worry about like how I might've killed Dean."

"Why don't we talk anymore?" Tate let out a sharp bark of a laugh and tried to keep herself on the couch. Catching her breath a minute later, she looked at her father and bit down on her lip.

"Oh God, you're serious."

"Of course I am Tatum Elizabeth."

"All right dad, here's your answer; we never talked! Not when I was a kid, not when I left and not now! We have nothing to talk about. We have nothing in common and if you say hunting, I'm gone." Ben was quiet for a few minutes, starring down at his hands. "Dad, you're a hunter, tried and true, through out a hunter. Me, I'm not. I'm a photographer and something else, I'm not like you. I get that. I know, I'm a real let down, its cool. I've accepted that. But this is the way I am, take me or leave me, disappointed or not. I'm not changing."

"I wouldn't want you to change if you paid me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I love what you've become."

"I thought you hated it, like John hated Sam for leaving."

"John didn't hate Sam for going; he was hurt that his son was leaving.

"Yeah well, he could've fooled me. I remember the phone call I got from Sam after that fight. And then the one I got from Dean telling me a different story. And then I got one from you yelling at me because you said 'Sam was following in my foot steps'. You called me a degenerate and a traitor."

"I was hurt too, you all were leaving."

"Sorry we wanted to be normal; I can so see how we were the fucking wrong ones." Tate snapped, rolling her eyes.

"Don't curse at me."

"Don't treat me like I'm six. You've always done that, even more so after Garrett died."

"I couldn't afford to lose you too!"

"Meaning you'd be down one more hunter if I died."

"I didn't…I did mean it like that. If you were gone, it would've been just me, John and the boys. I wouldn't have had someone else there to watch my back." Tate didn't say anything, but what she did spoke volumes; she jumped up off the couch with tears in her eyes and looked down at her father.

"Do you know what normal fathers do when their daughter gets her first kiss? Threatens whoever gave it to her with his life, not clap Dean on the shoulder and laugh. Do you know what happens when a girl's a junior in high school? She gets invited to her Prom, not 'invited' to spend a night hiding behind a gas station waiting for a werewolf to show up in the tree line. Do you know what happens when a girl graduates from high school? Her father's proud and wishes for her not to grow up anymore. You, you didn't even show up to my high school graduation and you only showed up at my college one because you were passing through and heading up to Salem for a hunt. I know where you were the day I graduated, you were sitting in a bar with John hunched over maps and that ripped picture of mom, plotting your next "Wendigo-raid'. I knew you were there; Dean told me. You know, you say you have balls to do what you do every day, to pick up a gun, a Latin bible and stare down some new monster; but did you ever once have the balls to treat me like a kid? No, you didn't. And if you also had real balls, you'd call mom. She's not dead you know. I hate you; I hope you know I have the balls to say that to you." She said, swiping away a tear that tumbled down her cheek. She brushed her hair back off her neck and walked out of the room.

"I called your mother!" Ben yelled to her a few seconds later, after the sting from what she said went away. "I called your mother and told her to live her life. I told her to enjoy her new husband and her fourteen year old daughter. I told to enjoy her summer home and have a life that didn't involve me." Ben muttered to himself, knowing Tate wasn't out there. And she wasn't, she was hovering in the kitchen, her one arm crossed over her chest and the other held her chin up; her thumb nail being chewed on. With a scream, she spun around and sent every glass container sailing off the counter, her arms flying out and sweeping them onto the floor below. She stood back, watching sugar, flour, salt and coffee spill out onto the tile and then with a breeze, swirled them all up into the air; a basic-'spice' filled mini tornado filling the kitchen.

With her eyes closed she sent it flying around the kitchen, whipping at her skin, the flimsy curtains covering the window over the skin, across the table top and tearing at everything else in its way. In her mind's eye she watched it gain speed and power; storm clouds formed over the stove, lightning skirted across the burners; nipping up small orange flames, and thunder rolled across the clouds in tiny rumbles. Everything Ben refused to say to her fueled the tornado and just as it started inching on an F5 storm, a cough from the doorway; someone clearing their throat, pulled her away from her new version of a tornado in a bottle. Spinning around, her hair wind whipped and smacking against her face, she saw Dean standing in the doorway and with an audible moan of dying power; she let everything slip away from her. Dean let her purple eyes stare into him and for a minute, she swore she saw a smile tug on his lips. He looked tired, completely running on empty, but other than that, he seemed fine. He looked like he needed two days worth of sleep, nothing like she had envisioned and he didn't look like he was dying; death warmed over was a completely different story. He had bed head, clothes wrinkled and eyes getting closer to blood shot with each blink; Tate felt herself smile.

Closing the distance between the two, her hands started at his hips and slowly, as if checking him over, skimmed up. She felt muscles clench and relax, skin stretching over them and here and there, she paused to rub slow circles into wherever her fingers stopped. She slipped her fingers under his shirt, moving in slow strokes up his stomach, and smiled when a shallow breath slipped out through his lips. She slowly changed the tempo and direction, dropping the touches down to nothing but faint brushes against him and moved her fingers up and then pulled them back down the same way; retracing their path.

"Tate." He breathed out, it was a warning. Moving her hands out from under the almost thread bare soft fabric, she went back to her original plan and felt her way up his sides, stopping when she reached up under his arms. With a smile, she leaned in and kissed his throat, right below his Adam's apple. Her fingers kept moving, kept retracing familiar lines, grooves and textures that made up Dean; soft cotton, warm skin, heavy sleeve seams, and then traveled back down his arms, stopping at his wrists. She let go of his left wrist, her left hand dropping back to his hip and with her right, pulled his right hand towards her. Tate watched her fingers thread through Dean's, palm to palm and with her thumb, swirled over his pulse point. Beneath her pad of skin and under the layer that made up his wrist, she felt his pulse beating, a steady rhythm she was usually lulled to sleep by and then let go; just like that she lost her grip. Both of her hands came up, almost ear level on Dean, swirled through his hair and laced together when his spine and skull fused. Tipping his head down towards her, she smiled up at him and met him in the middle. It was just a kiss, nothing major, a simple press of the lips that when Tate pulled away ended in a soft wet smack.

"Eh-hem." Tate jumped when she heard the strange voice, her eyes leaving Dean's and over to the set that mirrored Garrett's; Griffin. Doing a double take, Tate saw that there wasn't that much Garrett left in him, well his face anyways. His nose was no longer perfectly straight like her own, there was a bump in the center of the bridge and instead of her brother's thin lips, they were a little fuller; especially the bottom one. His hair had changed a little too, just a shade darker and instead of Garrett's baby face, Tate made out the shadow of an almost full day's worth of stubble. He looked tired, just like Dean and then it all made sense, so much sense that Tate started laughing.

"What's so funny Tatum?"

"You look like Dean and Garrett kinda morphed together. It's actually kinda creepy." She said, her fingers still in Dean's hair and gently scraped her nails against his scalp. She had always liked playing with his hair; it was something he teased her about endlessly.

"Creepy?"

"Yeah, to see Dean's face and my brother's eyes looking at me." She answered with a shudder.

"I could change."

"Nah, don't bother. So, are we good? He good?" Tate asked, pulling herself closer to Dean.

"Yeah, just be gentle for a little awhile."

"I'm always gentle with him."

"I saw you just now, you were feeling him up."

"I was making sure he was okay. Right De, that's what I was doing?"

"Yeah, that's what you were doing." He said, burrowing his face in her neck and yawning.

"Gentle Tate, I mean it. I don't want you bringing him back here." Griffin warned, raking a hand through his too much Dean like hair.

"I'll behave, I promise."

"Sure you will." He said, pushing off the doorframe and walked down the hall. Tate pushed Dean's head away from her neck with her shoulder and caught his face in her hands. She starred for a minute before kissing his cheek.

"What are you looking at?"

"He looks too much like you. Acts like you too; did you see him walk away?"

"No."

"Its was all 'Dean-swagger'. I don't like it."

"On him or me?"

"Him, so him. I like you." She said, kissing his throat and slowly worked her way up to his lips. She was almost there when he pushed her away.

"Griffin said 'gentle'."

"I'll show you gentle, Winchester."


	14. Sleepovers and Hurricanes

**Sorry it took me longer than normal to post a new chapter, but I've had such a case of writer's block with this chapter. I had the last chapter of Dark Grounds planned out already before I started writing this and couldn't think of a way to get there, so it took a while for it to play out just the right way. ****Anyways, in this chapter I kind of gave a spoiler for the next Tate-story, _Dark Winds_, so I hope you guys catch it and like the idea I have so far. So, I'm done talking, I hope you guys like this chapter and if I have time, I'll post the last chapter later.

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****Chapter 14- Sleepovers and Hurricanes**

Tate slid the Mustang into 'her' spot outside the Hilton and swore when she killed the engine, she heard Scarlet let out a relieved sigh; her tires were back on familiar ground. Reclining in the driver's seat, her legs stretched as far as the gas and break pedal allowed, and leaned her head back against the head-rest; cracking her neck and then starred up at the ceiling. To say it had been a long day was a Goddamn understatement; she had killed a Dark-Side Wycker, became one herself, killed a succubus, almost killed Dean, saw a 'reflection' of her dead brother in another Wycker, got poofed back to the SUNY Orange parking lot, left her father to go wherever the hell he wanted, packed up and then drove straight to Boston; a very long day. She had just wanted to get home, there were only stopping for gas, crappy gas station junk food to eat and when she allowed it, bathroom breaks. Other than that, the Mustang lead the way with a steady pace of seventy miles an hour and in her rear view mirror she made sure Sam and Fancy were still behind her in the Impala. With one last crack of her neck, Tate sat back up and fumbled for the door handle. She popped open her door, slamming it shut behind her once she stood up car cramped legs and walked over to the passenger's side; watching the way the dim gold glow from the street lights above shimmered off the five day old polish that covered the candy apple red paint of her 'baby' and without waking up Dean, opened his door. He had fallen asleep when she flew past the third exit in Connecticut; slouched low in the seat, feet up against the front floor board, head lolled toward her seat and his arms crossed over his stomach. Sitting down on his thigh, she brushed his hair away from his face, moving the sleep-mused spiky strands away from his forehead and gently kissed him right above his right eye. She didn't know why she was being so gentle, like Griffin had said; normally she didn't listen to anyone, but she thought she might be afraid she could break Dean some how.

"I almost killed you; I guess breaking you isn't that hard." She murmured, running her fingers over his cheek bone. Tate pulled her hand away when his face scrunched; his nose twitched, lips curled and slowly his eyes fluttered open. She sat back and watched him wake-up; a yawn escaping him, his shoulders popping as he stretched, a yelp slipping past her own lips when he stretched his legs and then blinked at her a few times, clearing the sleep from his eyes. Tired green eyes starred into her and with a grin, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Morning sunshine." She said with an almost mega-watt smile.

"Where are we?"

"Boston."

"How long have you been sitting on my lap?" Dean managed to get out in between yawns and stretches.

"Not long. Why? Am I supposed to move?"

"Nah, you're fine." He said, giving her a lopsided grin before letting out another yawn.

"You look like crap, lets get inside." She said, getting up off his leg and stretching in the fading afternoon sunlight. Dean watched as the light hit her just so and turned her into a shade red; bronze and copper dancing in her still blood red and black hair, oranges and yellows against her tan skin and reds and violets bouncing off her clothes. He remembered, from the two years they had actually stayed in one school system in Georgia, that several of the guys he had made friends with for the time being called her Autumn; they would always ask where his girlfriend 'Autumn' was. Dean hated that nickname, it was Tate, Kingy or his own Violet; nothing else, even if Autumn seemed to fit her. The feeling of Tate punching him in the arm lightly pulled him from his thoughts and watched her walk toward the entrance of the Hilton, her duffle and camera bag over her shoulder.

The trip up to her apartment went by fast but Tate wasn't complaining. Jamming the keys into the lock, she pushed open the door and found herself starring down her hallway, a smile on her face. Dropping her bag onto the floor, with plans of unpacking later, she walked into the kitchen and found herself starring at her phone, the lovely little red light blinking at her.

"Voice mails out the ass, great." She muttered as Dean walked into the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter behind her.

"Just delete them all."

"With my luck they'll be important."

"True. Where are Sam and Fancy?"

"Down at the bar. I saw Sam drive down toward it before I made the turn to come here. She called me when we got close and told me she was 'kidnapping' him for the night."

"So we're alone?"

"Yep, just us two."

"Sounds fun."

"Yeah, fun. You have your own fun."

"Why?"

"I'm going to take a long shower. I need it. Need to relax."

"Go ahead, if she's got him we have time." Tate rolled her eyes and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Dean to stare at the spot she had been standing in. On her way to her master bathroom, she shed her leather jacket; dropping it on the back of the couch and two steps later her thin hoodie joined it, leaving her in a thin black cotton t-shirt and her favorite jeans; her combat boots had been slipped off and left by her duffle. Her bedroom was the same as she had left it, sheets and blankets draped over her bed, papers stacked on top of messy shelves, shoes creeping out from under the bed, random crap on her dressers and clothes hidden neatly behind her closet door. Pulling loose linen pants and a tank top from her dresser, she walked into the bathroom; putting her new clothes on the sink, and turned the water on, cranking it up as hot as it could go. She dropped her old clothes into the hamper before sliding under the water and let out a hiss when the hot water pinged off her car-sore back. Pressing her forehead into the cool beige tiles of her shower, she let the water soak into her sink.

With her back under the spray; water working its way over scars and tattoos, bumps and bruises, old and new sores and the straight-aways of tanned skin and curve of bones, she let out a sigh and tried to clear her mind. But it didn't happen it was always like this after a long drive; her mind just wouldn't calm down. She was used to playing tricks on herself, doing stupid puzzles and going over words in Latin so she'd stay awake behind the wheel. With her eyes closed, she went back over being a Dark Side Wycker, everything about it, the high she got from the power, the pain she caused and how she almost killed Dean. Banging her fist against the tile, she let out a smothered scream and jumped when she heard the door open.

Dean didn't say anything as he walked in, he just came in and sat on toilet seat, looking at Tate through the fogged glass shower door. She was a fuzzy vision of tanned skin and soap. Tate watched him watch her and rolled her eyes; pain in the ass. She ignored him and went back to what she had planned; taking a too long shower. Dean watched soap suds slide across her, some stopping here and others dropping there, no amount of soap staying in the same place long. Ocean air scented body wash covered her in sheen, making her skin gleam and tattoos stand out more.

"Either I haven't seen you naked in a while or you got more tattoos."

"Both."

"Both?"

"Yeah, we never get past taking off hoodies and I've gotten about six more tattoos." She called over the steady pulse of water. She had more tattoos than most of the men Dean knew, from tiny little almost 'girly' things to a nasty growling dragon on the small of her back. Without her knowing, he knew she had a 'D' inked into the underside of her wrist and a new one on her ankle, a 'J' in front of a police badge for her dead ex-fiancé Jacob.

"Is that a lightning bolt on your hip?"

"Yup. One on each side, I got them after Weston Park, kind of a souvenir." She said smiling.

"You're weird."

"Pot meet kettle." Tate told him and with a flick of her hand wiped the soap away from the tattoo Dean was talking about. He didn't talk to her after that, just let her finish what she was doing and then jumped when she opened the shower door, cocking an eye brow.

"Hand me a towel?" She said, trying not to laugh at the dumb founded look at him face. "You act like you've never seen me like this before, jackass."

"I think we already went over that I haven't seen you like this in a while."

"Not my fault."

"Not mine either."

"Sam."

"All Sam's fault." Dean said as he handed Tate a dark blue towel that matched the paint on the bathroom wall and watched as she wrapped it around herself. "Speaking of Sam, he's not going to be here all day and you've taken a shower. Do you have anymore plans?" He asked with that smirk.

"No, I think I'm free."

"Good." He said as he scooped her into his arms and carried her off into the bedroom, Tate's giggles and shrieks flooding out from under the crack at the bottom of the door.

A couple hours later Tate sat in her office, her hair wet again from her second shower; this one taken with Dean and lasted as long as the hot water did, and skimmed through emails she had gotten while off in New York. A bunch from former co-workers keeping her up to date on what was and wasn't going on down at the newspapers, some from friends and a few from Hunters who had access to the wonderful thing called the Internet. Some of them were about new haunts and hunts, others keeping everyone informed like a "Hunters' Newsletter." She laughed at the thought of someone like Bobby sitting behind a screen typing up everything going on in the 'supernatural community' and then sending it off to everyone. Her laugh ended when the phone next to her computer started to ring. Grabbing it before the one in her bedroom woke Dean up, she pulled the black cordless phone towards her and pushed 'talk'.

"Hello?"

"Tate, it's me, Mom."

"Oh! Your phone number came up private; I didn't realize it was you."

"I know, I have it set that way, I'm in my vacation house."

"I hate you." She heard her mother laugh on the other line. "So what's up?"

"I'm going to get right to the point, something weird is happening down here."

"Where's here mom?"

"Miami."

"Again, I hate you."

"Tatum, please."

"All right, what's wrong?"

"It's the end of January and there's a hurricane alert out in the area."

"Ma, that doesn't sound like something I should be concerned with."

"Twenty minutes ago the skies were clear blue and now it looks like there's going to be a tornado. I called your father and he said to call you."

"He told you about me, didn't he?"

"I don't know all the details but he told me that you could do something with the weather."

"Something is an understatement. Anyways, what's wrong? Besides this hurricane alert?"

"Everything down here's been acting strange; the waves, the weather, freak thunderstorms on calm days, lightning storms, and power outages."

"And you don't think it has a 'natural' cause?"

"No, I don't. It seems to all be coming from one source."

"And that's where?"

"This lighthouse in Saint Augustine." Looking at the clock on her computer, it was only inching on seven thirty at night; Tate sighed and raked a hand through her hair.

"Okay. Let me see what I can do."

"What do you mean?"

"If it's something 'supernatural', I'll come down and check on it."

"Tate, if you're with Dean don't bother."

"He'll understand it's a family thing."

"Tatum…"

"Mom, its fine. Sure, I'll be giving up probably the only time we've had alone in months, but that's one of the flaws of this job; no personal time. Don't worry."

"I do worry."

"Stop. Ma…umh…did Dad say anything else? I mean, when we left New York he just got in his car and floored it. He didn't even say goodbye to me."

"He didn't want to upset you more Tatum. He's sorry about that."

"Yeah, okay. So umh…let me go get stuff together and I'll see you in a few days."

"Tate, you don't have to come."

"I want to. I think you're right about this. I mean if its all coming from one specific point then something or someone could be doing it."

"I'm not going to get you to stay am I?"

"Nope, I'll be there."

"If you're doing this, even though I know you are, please be safe. No risky stuff, be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"Your father used to say that."

"Must run in the blood."

"Not listening to me, being hardheaded and a pain in the ass does too."

"Yeah, I got that from him."

"Tatum, listen to me, don't rush down here tonight, stay one more night and stay with Dean. Don't ruin whatever you two have planned for me."

"All right Ma, I can do that."

"Good."

"I'll be down there by the weekend though."

"I know you will."

"See you then."

"I will. Bye Tate."

"Bye Ma." She clicked the phone off and stretched backward in her desk chair. Letting a growl slip past her lips, she cracked her neck and began to wish just once that she had a normal life, just once. All she wanted was time to sit, paint her nails again so she could fix the chipped paint, read a book, spend time with Dean, laugh with Sam, get drunk with Fancy and not have to worry about being jumped by the monster under the bed. Pushing her chair back, rolling across the area rug that covered the hardwood floor of her office, she stopped near the door; kicked the chair back to its place and padded off to her bedroom. Gently she pushed the door open and found the room was the same as she had left it an hour ago; Dean included. The curtains were drawn, the TV's volume turned down to a low rasp, the faint blue glow painting shadows on the walls and Dean was still sprawled out in the middle of the bed. Biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud, she walked over to the bed and crawled onto the mattress; sliding up along side him. She pushed her way under one of his arms and giggled when his grip tightened around her.

"I was wondering when you'd come back." He whispered, looking at her with sleep filled eyes.

"I was only gone an hour and you probably just woke up when the phone rang."

"I did. Who was it?"

"My mom."

"What did she say?"

"I think we have a new case."

"What makes you think that?"

"She said things have been acting crazy down in Florida and its all centered around this one place."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Either way, I told her I'd be there to check it out."

"So we do have a new a case?"

"Kinda."

"Tate, I thought you were the one who wanted to take a break and relax?"

"Think of it this way Dean, case or no case, my mom's in Miami. Work or not, we're going to Miami for a little while." She watched his face closely and then laughed when her words finally sunk in.

"I could like this job."

"Thought you would." She said, kissing his bare shoulder.

"So, now that she called and is out of the way, how much time do we have before we have to go down there?"

"Till the weekend."

"Its Monday, that's great. Second question, how much longer till Sam comes home?"

"I'd say late tomorrow morning, afternoon maybe."

"Even better. Now, can we use the rest of our time alone 'wisely'?" Dean rasped, pulling her in for a kiss.

"Sounds like a plan."


	15. Not Home for Long

**Hey guys! This is the last chapter of _Dark Grounds._ I hope you guys enjoyed the story as much as I have. I really like this one better as a 'sequel' than _Dark Roads,_ but thats my opinion. Anyways some more business stuff, hopefully when the Writer's Block finally goes completely away I'll start posting more stuff for _Meeting in the Dark_ and then _Dark Winds_, the next Tate-story, should be up soon. So I'm done, I'll let you guys read. I hope you all like it.

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****Chapter 15- Not Home for Long**

It was a Thursday night at Fancy's, the bar packed from wall to wall and loud music spewed from the stage; Fancy's older brother Kyle and his band were playing. Sam, Tate, Fancy and Dean had been home three days and if Tate had her way, the four of them would be taking off by the end of the week. Tate pushed her way through the crowd, half drunk and half listening to Kyle sing, and headed towards the bar, vaulting up on the counter top when she got there. Fancy stood behind the counter, a beer in hand, and eyed an obnoxious bottle blonde sitting at the bar, giggling over something some drunk had said to her. Tate watched Fancy's lip curl up in disgust.

"You know if keep starring at her like that, she'll blow up."

"That's what I'm hoping for."

"If it happens, I'm not cleaning up the pile of pink girly goop, over douse of hair gel and make up."

"If it does happen, I should be given an award for doing a public service. This is a bar, not a night club or mall!"

"Calm down, just ignore Barbie and she'll go away."

"Can we kill her now? I don't like her sitting there."

"How about we try getting rid of her first and if that doesn't work, we can unload my trunk and see what'll work best."

"Can we just knock her over the head with a bottle?"

"And save me the trip to my car? I'm all for it."

"So how are we going to get rid of her?"

"Scare her off. Go tell Kyle to play something a little less 'new' and aim for something more Ozzy/Black Sabbath-ish." Fancy grinned and took off, running off toward the stage. A minute later, 'Paranoid' by Black Sabbath started to play. Tate smiled and felt the urge to go ask Barbie what she thought but decided against it. Fancy literally came skipping back, a smile on her face and walked back behind the bar.

"If she likes that song, I'll kill you." Fancy said, looking Tate dead in the eye.

"You will not."

"I will too."

"Doubt it."

"If I can't kill you, I'll fire you."

"You won't."

"Shut up." And for once, Tate did. Instead of going back at Fancy she scanned the bar and found Dean playing a game of pool across the room with Sam watching him from the corner, shaking his head the entire time. Spinning around on the counter top to face Fancy, she plucked another beer out from the cooler they had back there and smiled at her best friend.

"What do you want?"

"To ask you something."

"What? You're scaring me King."

"How are things with you and Sam?"

"Why?"

"Just asking, you're my girl friend and his girlfriend, I'm interested."

"I am not his 'girlfriend' and I don't do 'girlfriend' anymore."

"If you're not his girlfriend what are you? Lover? Fuck buddy? Passing stranger in the night? Lonely bartender looking for a warm body to lie with? I'm just asking how things are in Evans/Winchester land."

"Shut up King." She said, throwing her towel down on the counter and went back to cleaning up; tossing empty beer bottles away.

"I'm just asking!"

"You're a pain in the ass you know?"

"I've been told."

"Well smart ass, how are things in King/Winchester land?"

"Fine, but give us ten minutes we'll be fighting."

"Nothing odd." Fancy said rolling her eyes as Tate tossed her beer cap at her head.

"No throwing things, I'll dock your pay."

"You will not."

"Oh yes; a whole quarter." Fancy said laughing.

"A quarter! What am I going to do without that quarter!? I need that for the rent!" The giggles spilled out from the bar and mixed it with the guitar riff coming from the stage. A few minutes later Sam came over to the bar and looked at the girls who were finally catching their breaths.

"Fancy?"

"Hmm Sammy?"

"Another round?"

"Sure." She said as Tate choked on her last giggle and then smothered another on coming set with a swig of beer. After handing him two beers and sending him back to the pool table, Tate looked at Fancy and smiled.

"Aww! You like him! I knew it!"

"Shut up Kingy, you're drunk."

"No, I've only had two beers. But you like Sammy! You are his girlfriend!"

"I swear to God, you'll be dead by morning."

"But if you kill me you won't be able to hear what I have to tell you."

"And that is?"

"How do you feel about Miami?"

"I've been there a few times, why?"

"I have a new hunt coming up, what do you think?"

"In Miami?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure what is it yet, but it's something."

"When are we leaving?"

"The weekend."

"I'll have Kyle watch the bar for me."

"You're going?"

"Damn straight."

"Yes!" The two clinked the necks of their bottles together and laughed when some beer sloshed out at them. Tate, after finishing her beer, slipped down off the stool and pushed back through the crowd, making her way toward the pool table. Dean was setting up a shot when she slid up next to him, her fingers slipping beneath the waist of his jeans and watched him jump; the ball he had hit with the cue flying off in a different direction than he had planned.

"I could've sunk that."

"Yeah, but I don't care."

"I know. What's up?" He asked as she sat up on the corner of the table and looked at him, her hand sliding up along his side.

"I told Fancy about Miami."

"And?"

"She's going."

"She's driving down with you."

"Or, she can drive down with Sam and you can drive with me." Tate said; her eye brow cocked.

"I like that idea better."

"Me too." She said, tugging at the sides of his flannel shirt and pulling him down towards her. "Remember that time we drove from Indiana to Louisiana? Remember stopping along the way because we told our dads that we needed to check up on an old case?"

"Yeah, I remember that. We were seventeen and then we found some hotel in Nashville. That was fun."

"Very fun. And if you recall, I live in the Hilton and have a credit card to get a room at any Hilton on the way down there. There are Hiltons all along the east coast."

"Really?" He smirked, coming closer to her face, almost nose to nose.

"All you have to do is tell me where to stop."

"I will."

"I know you will." She purred, her fingers skimming along his throat. They were this close to making out on the pool table, another reenactment from their teenage years, when Tate heard Fancy's shout over the noise from the bar.

"Shut up!" She yelled and Tate turned to look at her. She had the remote to the TV over the bar in hand and was turning the volume up as loud as it could go. On the news, the anchor behind the desk was reporting something with an "emergency" ticker flying across the screen.

"_A category four hurricane has just hit the coast of Florida, making land fall several moments ago. This hurricane, named 'Hurricane X' by the National Weather Service, is an anomaly for this time of the year, seeing as Hurricane Season is over for the next few months. We will keep you up to date as more information is provided. Again, a category four hurricane has just made land fall in Florida." _

Fancy's eyes fell on Tate, her brown orbs asking a question; _'Was that you?'_ Tate shrugged and shook her head 'no'. She had no idea what was going on. Turning back, Sam looked at her the same way.

"Tate?"

"I have no idea Dean. I didn't do this, but I know one thing, my mom was right. We need to get down there."

**The End**


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